


Post-Existence

by RedCheshireCat



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Grell's thoughts, Mystery, POV First Person, Victorian era, character introspection, humor and angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2018-08-11 22:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7909864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedCheshireCat/pseuds/RedCheshireCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grell Sutcliff is assigned to solve the case of missing souls from a certain manor in the outskirts of London. Additionally Ronald Knox, new graduate Academy student, will have to work alongside with the most eccentric Reaper in Dispatch. Grell is going to be faced with the challenge of searching, not only for what happened at the manor, but also for a mutual understanding with Ronald.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ab-normal Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> ***** Story is set in the 19th century England, some time after Jack the Ripper Arc.  
>  ***** Not a romance/slash. _(Feel free to see the hints of whatever pairing you want tho.)_  
>  ***** Exploration of the dynamics between main Kuroshitsuji characters and Grell, who's the narrator.  
>  ***** A first-person narrative story.  
>  ***** Character introspection. (First chapter serves only as the character introduction.)  
>  ***** Chapters are named after the titles of horror movies.  
>  ***** _(Ronnie's appearance starts from chapter 8)_  
>  ***** _(Be aware of my specific, kind of analytical, way of writing Grell's character)_
> 
> _Thank you for reading._
> 
> * * *
> 
> _Update:_   
>  _I would like to thank @Aidant for proofreading the first 8 chapters of this story._

* * *

  _Eternity - infinite or an indeterminately long period of time. However, in classical philosophy, eternity is held to be that which exists outside of time._

Certainly it's not easy to describe even if you are an immortal being like me. I like to philosophize; however, it's challenging to find the right words. I had many concepts about the purpose of life, good and evil, or even death. Though they all seem to change over time. Now I try not to think often about it, because lately I just deal with what fate brings on daily basis.

As usual when I was waking up on some decent hour, not ridiculous 5 a.m., bright blue sky was greeting me through the wide window in my small bedroom. I looked up once more at the papers scattered on top of the dresser which was placed next to my bed and served me as a desk. Reports piled up, urging to be finished finally, but paperwork was boring. The walnut colour dresser was waist height and elegant in carving. Despite my love for the colour red, my furniture wasn't scarlet at all. Not even close to mahogany. I didn't mind it, elegance is what counts the most.

Usually I leave my tasks to finish them on the last minute. Surprisingly the results from such a practice aren't bad. In fact, they are even better than when I'm completing my work before time. However, many individuals would not believe me, well, we all can't be the same. And I'm definitely standing out from the crowd.

What a shame I couldn't sleep any longer. Trying to push aside disappointment, I reached for the thin book, which was lying under the small, brass lamp with scarlet, decorative lampshade. On its first page, under the headline _"To Die List"_ , I wrote with red ink my full name _"Grell Sutcliff"_. The book should be returned or the management would not let me live. Now I just had to make myself presentable for the day.

It didn't matter if anyone cared about how I looked. On the other hand I couldn't allow myself to appear neglected, after all, a lady should always look attractive. That's how it is, no matter if it's a world of mortals or not. Also when you are assumed to belong in one of the genders you should look like one. That's how society works. Any crossovers aren't being welcome nicely by others, I learned that lesson early. Frankly, I did not, or at least I tried to not to, give a damn about what others thought of my sense of fashion, makeup or hair. How much I differed from my peers.

Same went for my cramped flat I lived in. I tried to ignore the bruises I got from time to time when I ran into furniture in hurry. Though I wanted to compromise the situation with the unique style of my possessions. My flat consisted of one tiny bedroom with wide window above my bed, larger living room with a row of windows on one side, I had a balcony behind them, and a little kitchen pressed between these two rooms. All of the windows had west side view. The only room without window was small the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. When it was an extremely hot summer, especially in the afternoons, it was unbearable to stay indoors. I deeply wished to have a bigger house with a garden, preferably with a red roof.

As mentioned before, even if rules of the mortal world applied to the place where I lived, it was certainly that no human or demon could freely access it. Because it was a place that was one of a kind in the whole universe, a place for Grim Reapers - like me, and for those who control and regulate the delicate case of human souls.

I started to put my makeup on to soften my manly looking face. Yes, physically I was a man. Nevertheless, after some time I felt the need to embrace my feminine side. Though actually time has no meaning when you are a Grim Reaper. Being over 100 years old I still considered myself young.

However, at the beginning, others tend to laugh behind my back. Besides the fact that I consciously didn't want give them reasons to. Everyone always judged, regardless of whether someone wants it or not. Though I could deal with silent, wordless or more open comments. I just wanted to look good, attractive and fabulous for myself. I cared even if a little bit as everyone else. Trying to be tough, but at the same time wanting acceptance and approval.

It was difficult.

It was difficult especially at the beginning when I was at the Academy. At that time I thought I should listen more to myself and express it. I experimented with my looks a bit, but not to that extent as I did much later. The real thing started when I began my life as a full-fledged Reaper. I don't know if I felt as I do, being between man and woman, more back then or now. I wasn't at school anymore, so I didn't need to think about strict clothing code for students. That meant I could wear whatever attire I pleased, at least I thought so, there were still regulations about it too. Concluding, I bent the rules a little to my liking.

Same went for my blood red hair. Being in Academy I kept it as short as possible. That doesn't mean it was as short as others students had, it never was. It gave my colleagues a reason to question or frown upon. Some were genuinely curious why I kept my hair in such an unruly state or if I was planning to let it grow any longer in the future. I usually answered that I don't know or I'm thinking about it. Some Reapers would come to me and say I looked ridiculous and should cut it just like the rest of my peers did. Some made nasty comments behind my back, regardless of whether I could hear them or not. After all I never followed the rules of a normal Academy student. Besides, I loved my hair just the way it was. Maybe I just got used to it. So the more I heard about cutting it, the more I wanted to keep it long just in spite. Over the years I managed to grow my hair below my knees, incredible. And how rebellious! After a while others stopped commenting about it. Yes, they gave up, because in adult life there are more interesting and absorbing things than just hair or clothes of a fellow Reaper. So I could come at peace with myself at this point.

There was a massive amount of difference between living life as an Academy student and being a full-fledged Shinigami - the latter for who I am. So as long as I had a job, purpose in life, I would be fine. Or at least I thought so. _All the world's a stage and I am a player._ I would be playing my role and try to get something from life. After all I had a lot of time now to determine how my future should look.

At some days I might feel broken, sadness creeping upon me, having doubts, but still deep down in my heart I knew who I was and what I wanted. I was strong enough to pull through this. Yes, human emotions weren't unfamiliar to me, though I wasn't a human anymore.

I ran my fingers through the soft, red and black dress in my wardrobe in the living room. I won't be wearing it today. One of the major changes in my appearance and personality was to act and dress like a lady. I thought a lot about it. That need, feeling, not quite understandable. Yet, it was so overwhelming. Soft touch of fabric, sliding my long delicate fingers through it, that burning red colour. My favourite colour. I had this fleeting feeling, repetitive thoughts, "What if?", "What if I was born as a female?" Indeed an interesting question. _Would my life bear any difference? Would it turn out better or maybe nothing would change at all?_ I had a lot of questions in my head. Most of them was left unanswered or maybe all of them. Who would know how much life could be changed by being born the opposite sex. I didn't know either, but I imagined that it would be better, that it had some privileges I couldn't now have. Though, on the other hand, I could do things that women couldn't. However, I didn't fit in the male standards, not that I lacked physical strength or couldn't find anger and brutality in myself. That wasn't it. I had plenty of those characteristic and yet... I didn't fit in the man's world. Through my years after graduation I steadily slowed down on ambition and rivalry between my colleagues. I paid more attention to feelings, internal thoughts and emotions. Those were the aspects that ruled my existence, not all of course, but the majority of it. Typical stereotype associated with women. Though emotions can pull you down, impeding one's goal, I was aware of it. Defying cold calculation and logic, I let myself be thorn by this conflict. I loved being dressed like a woman and at the same time I hated it. Sometimes it made me feel beautiful, proud and sometimes it made me feel weak and vulnerable, but always it left me yearning for more. As a female I felt confidence and fragility at the same time. I felt attractive, but I was also repulsive to many others.

So much contrast, just like red and black. I loved black. I would choose it as my second favourite colour if I could. Red was passion, life, flame and energy. While black was absence of colour, despair, sadness and melancholy, which I often felt. The colour of death. I was a mix of these two and it was them I often had on my clothes. There were times I preferred nothing but red and there were times I only wanted to sleep, to never wake up, rest in black emptiness.

I took the book and left home. Humans lived mundane lives, died mundane deaths. Most of the things were predictable. It was one of those mornings I would prefer to stay in the dark.


	2. Blood and Roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Grell gets assigned to the case. I know, slow build plot, but couldn't resist the vibe of a character introspection. And William gets teased a bit._

* * *

Walking down the stairs was useful to collect thoughts and could be called the morning exercise as well. At least for me. I had enough of exercising when I was hurrying to find another soul to reap or had to scare away a hungry demon. Always late, jumping over the rooftops. I skipped over the last two steps as I usually did by holding the railing for support. _So why do they say exercising should be especially be in the morning? It's plain stupid._

Also, living in one of the many drab blocks of flats meant my neighbours were Reapers from mine or other departments. I couldn't quite tell, because saying _"Good morning"_ and _"Good evening"_ was enough when it came to socializing with them. They quickly made sure I got this message clearly. _And who would want to know more about those boring individuals?_ Everyone minded their own business. _Just focus on the job, do not ask unnecessary questions, do your job to the best of your abilities. If only I could live by that rules..._

Outside, the light from the sunny Monday morning attacked my eyes mercilessly, as I strolled to the Dispatch building. After taking my time in the grand main hall with checking mails, I went to the reception, as instructed by the note I acquired. On the walls were hung old paintings in gold frames, depicting important events in humankind history, all now dark and brushed up with a yellow tinge. When I was bored or had to wait for something, I liked to watch them. I knew them perfectly, but it seemed as if every time I looked a new story unfolded inside them. The reception was placed in the middle of the hall with a massive golden chandelier, decorated with thousands of crystals, hanging above.

"Morning sunshine! What's on the agenda?" I sing sang to the receptionist, lightly tapping the desk in front of her.

The woman, with rather sparse mouse-coloured hair tied into a ponytail, sat behind the counter and appeared to be immersed in paperwork. Though, when she glanced at me briefly, her eyes were shiny and blank. "Good morning, hmm... eh... Yes, you have a meeting with Mr. Spears at 9 o'clock," she answered, not even bothering to look up again. Her glasses were at tip of her nose as if it were about to fall off at any minute. She was either passionately checking the papers or blankly staring at her well buttoned up, white shirt without cleavage, being too much of a prude to show some breasts.

"Oh... I have a date, how sweet!" I clasped my hands. Though my exclamation brought no attention from the receptionist, she just grunted under her nose.

_Tch, she could use some colour in her life._ Maybe then she wouldn't be so dull. _Maybe like the blood red colour._ Really, how I hated when some of the personnel acted like this. Like they were better. Just because they were on a different post, it doesn't give them a reason to exalt themselves above others. _How rude!_

I spun on my heel and immediately rushed forward down the hallway. While passing empty, walnut coloured walls, a thought came to my mind: _I haven't ate anything yet._ However, still having around a quarter till 9, allowed me to get a quick bite of something to fill the void in my stomach.

The spacious lunch room at this part of the day was a crowded place, mostly by fresh students on their breakfast brake and a few older Reapers. Soft light was gently seeping from the outside through the row of wide windows on the east wall. The conversations and muffled talks fused into one buzzing sound. It reminded of a hive with identical looking, working bees. Soon they will be off to study, reap souls, day by day, to do their job without protest. As if nature created them for this one purpose. I went around the long, wooden tables to get my food, in the meantime getting quite a few stares from the younger ones. _Mangosteen of the Reapers sure is recognizable, eh?_ I thought with a smile. As I sat at the free table, they returned to their distasteful hobby - burping as loud as they could. Chortling accompanied their pig-like behaviour. _Ordinary peasants._ I started to bite the sandwich, hoping that the irritating feeling in my stomach will ease. The polished surface of the table shined with pure gleam. I had to admit, the cleaning staff had done their job right. With another bite, few little crumbs of bread fell on the table. Instinctively I brushed them off.

"Hey, Jack!"

The irksome voice rose above the talking and whispering in the room. Immediately I turned my head to its direction.

"Hey, mate come on!"

_What brat was so clever to shout at 9 in the morning?_ Into my view came the group of youngsters seated two rows from me. Apparently, they wanted their sullen comrade, who was sitting by himself, to come to them.

_("Ha! Do you know how they called us?")_

Madam Red's voice chatted in my head unwillingly like the ringing of a bell. _(She barged into the room where I was waiting for her as we met for our usual evening game of poker.)_

_("You know how they called us?")_

The boy complied with their calling and stood up.

_(She waved the newspaper in front of my face and dropped it over the cards on the table.)_

"Hey, Jack!"

_("Jack.")_

That one word sounded like a firework, bolting into the immense sky on Guy Fawkes Day.

_("Jack the Ripper.")_

 Munching on the sandwich I stared at the boys who cheered.

_("Scotland Yard got a letter... Signed, yours truly, Jack the Ripper... Written with red ink!")_

Her hearty laugh filled my ears. The boys patted the other's back.

_("Apparently the blood went thick like glue, so the letter had to be written with ink instead.")_

The sandwich felt tasteless in my mouth. Clammy.

_("Did you write the letter, Grell?")_

I tried to move the dollop with my tongue, its consistency and taste like paper-mâché, to swallow it somehow. The polished surface of the table smelled acrid, like someone with too much dedication for their job had poured the cleaning supplies without any restrain. The lemon one. I put down the rest of the sandwich with a grimace. The lemon scent bared too much coincidence with the cleaning supplies usually used in the restrooms.

_("I'm confiscating your scythe and preparing a list of chores for you to do, the demotion is nowhere near the punishment you should have gotten.")_

The men's restrooms were the worst. It was better to visit the ones for ladies, usually they were cleaner and didn't smell of urine. I fished out from my red coat's pocket the little note.

_("Did you write it?")_

The melodic voice faded to the depths of my mind as I skimmed the contents of the note again, concentrating on what would be my assignment today.

One was known for sure, it would be something unusual. Because all of the Reapers got their regular lists of souls to collect in form of thin books every Monday, in their respective pigeon-hole message box, it was a part of effective internal mail system. This is why my heart jumped a bit when instead of a book there was small note that read _"Report to reception"._

I sighed, realizing that there wasn't any exciting assignments lately. With the intent to dispose of the hapless sandwich, I got up from the table. After throwing another disapproving glance at the young ones, I left the lunch room.

Substituting the feeling of hunger with the feeling of something heavy in my abdomen probably wasn't the best way to satisfy one's primary needs. Anyway, my ventures into the culinary field usually weren't very successful. To be frank I wasn't the type to consume everything I got my hands on. In fact, I was very peculiar about my food. Never eating too much, not that I feared about the line or weight obsessively. My job allowed me to stay fit. Eating food was just a necessity, sometimes it was enjoyable, but mostly I viewed it as a thing one must do, like breathing and sleeping. _Hm, as for breathing, especially while being asleep, I wouldn't be so sure, but whatever._ Talking about resemblance to humans, well, a Reaper was something between a higher being and a man. _What an irony._

However, sudden realization that I'll meet William soon raised my mood noticeably and added spring in my step. Now I was walking through multiple, narrow corridors with dark ebony walls that had elegantly carved wall panelling in their lower part. It was the upper part of the complex which was left in its old state. Contrary to the new building of the Academy and few others, here one could feel the scent of the glory days, where many famous Reapers worked in the past. My dear William had an office in the west wing. Funnily, my office was at the end of the east wing in the same building. Another difference between us, as if the conflict between our personalities wasn't enough. I was glad that my office was in this part of the building, the place had style, unlike the modern ones, and I definitely knew what was stylish. I was fond of elegant furniture, beautiful traditional paintings and fine clothing. After all, it was expected that a lady should have a good tastes and a sense of fashion, right?

I got on the desired floor, then turned left, and after a brisk walk I was in front of a regular, oak door. On a small gold plaque was a description with elegant letters that read _"William T. Spears - Supervisor of the Dispatch Management Division''._

I pushed the door-handle and went inside. There was no need to bother with knocking like some unwanted salesman. William was my old friend after all. _And a lover in dreams._

"Sutcliff, yet again, you won't even bother to knock on the door like a civilized person should." The dark haired, handsome man with sour expression was sitting on black leather chair behind the wide desk. _Typical._ He didn't even spare a look at me, touching his glasses for a second, he rummaged through the papers. "At least you aren't late. Here is your assignment." He handed me two pages.

I countered it with a question, "How did you know it was me coming here?"

"Honestly though..." He took some pages from one side of the desk and placed it on the other. As if his life was depending on order and organization. "You ask the same question again and again. Don't you realize I hear your footsteps loud enough, in those ridiculous high-heels of yours, every time you set foot in this corridor?" He placed a black paper clip on another few pages and put them in the drawer.

_Yet, you fail to mention how you are able to distinguish my footsteps from the other secretaries, the ones who often cross the corridor, they wear high-heels as well._ I watched how he was sorting the papers with his skilful hands. The way his slender fingers moved, quick and effectively. _Gracefully._ From the paper clip to skimming through the notes to taking the fountain pen and creating the endless, neat handwriting.

He noticed me staring at him and replied,  "And honestly, please do bring the weekly summary, I still haven't got it from you." The cold glance from behind the thin, black rimmed glasses was on me again.

"Oh, Will! You only think about work!" I automatically cried in melodic tone.

"Of course, that's what to be expected from _a_ _decent_ Grim Reaper."

"But you can't live only with work, you know thaat~?" I continued, as I sat partially on the dark desk.

Inhaling the air around, I thought William smelled nice. He paid attention to his professional attire. Not like he would be sweating bullets while spending all those days in the office. The room was often ventilated, because he believed that fresh air helped with filling paperwork.

"Get off my desk. Now." William fixed his glasses again in quick motion.

Really this must have been a nervous tick, he did that too often, especially when someone wasn't serious with him. William had terrible lack of humour.

"Ah Will, you always give me the cold shoulder, don't 'cha think this should be changed?" I asked, swaying my shoulders a bit.

He looked directly at me. The cold stare seemed to go through my soul. _Ah, that hypnotizing sight!_ Of course every Shinigami have chartreuse phosphorescent eyes, but I see subtle nuances in every one of them. For me William's eyes were one of a kind.

There was another thing when it came to me, I was totally unfortunate at love. No matter how hard I tried, no matter what I was willing to do, no matter what talents I possessed, it seemed to be never good enough to be loved back. At some point of life I even stopped wondering why things were that way. _Because what would be the point of it?_ I had behind me many tear-filled nights, gloomy mornings and depressing afternoons. It didn't make any difference if I thought about the causes of this state of being. Nothing made sense. So I decided the fault was not in me, but in some twisted, cruel fate. Because I couldn't change myself. It would work out partially anyway. Faking seriousness, awkwardness or smiles, like the great actress I was, was easy, but it was leaving me drained and unhappy _._ Oh, how I wished that someone would accept me the way I was. _And I hoped it would be soon!_

"Stop procrastinating, get acquainted with what's written in the file," his tone of voice was rather harsh. "I expect tomorrow a formal note from you about it, as by then you should have done some basic research."

William was always so severe, my antics or attempts to flirt could hardly break his stern decorum. That didn't mean I haven't tried. I remembered how this once B-average student was so daring towards me. And I had to say that not many dared to openly oppose The Mangosteen of the Reapers. Those unlucky ones, whom I found without good reason to do so, perished from this world by my hand.

Sitting in this close proximity to William made a mischievous idea appear in my mind. I leaned a bit further and snatched the fountain pen from his hand. The black, polished surface of the tool and gold nib was perfect and not damaged in any way. "Is this your favourite pen?" I inquired innocently.

William froze with clenched fist. "I don't have time for this."

I slid my index finger through the fountain pen with deliberate gentleness. "I see you often write with it. Must be your favourite, can I borrow it? I promise I would take good care of it~" I flashed him an obvious smile.

"Give it back, Sutcliff."

"Ah, but Willu, if it's such a great pen, maybe if I could borrow it for a while, my reports written by it would be more to your liking? Does it have a name? You know, some actually give names to their possessions."

He touched his glasses for a brief second and smoothed his hair. "Don't be ridiculous. Why would I want to name a tool?"

"Don't tell me you aren't attached to anything. I saw you speaking to pigeons and you're fond of your Death Scythe, ne~?"

I planned to motivate my stubborn man to take some action. To break him out of his comfort zone. _You remember our first time together? Our exam? If you're still so daring then take the pen from my hand._

"I send messages through the pigeons and at least five identical Death Scythes like mine are in the storage room. There is nothing special about it as it is another tool of my work."

_So stoic...Take the pen with your slender fingers._

"I pity the one who will have to work with you, Sutcliff. Do remember that you have to be present at the last classes this week. Now give it back."

"Tch. Why I would need some rookie to mess up my work? I saw them today at the lunch room, they haven't showed any exceptional talent besides being primitive."

I waved with the pen in front of Will's face for some more encouragement. He might not admit it, but he needed someone who would rile him up a bit. Otherwise, he would surely die from boredom here. _And what a pathetic death that would be!_

William furrowed his brows more and suddenly his scythe appeared in his hand.

"Gah!" _What a cheat!_

He retracted the scythe that missed my head by inches.

"That's not a way to treat a lady!" I skipped back to the middle of the room, the fountain pen fell from my hand earlier landing at the desk with audible tap. "All right, maybe let's eat something together after work. I don't hold a grudge about what you did~"

Unfortunately his scythe was again in motion, snipping too close to my beautiful face. I begrudgingly and hurriedly left the office. "Take a chill pill, Will~!" I yelled before closing the door and leaving William with sweet scent of my rosy perfume behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The "Dear Boss" letter was a message allegedly written by Jack the Ripper. It was the first time this name had been used to refer to the killer, soon hundreds of other letters claiming to be from "Jack the Ripper" were received, most copying key phrases._


	3. The Little Shop of Horrors

* * *

Expecting a different reaction from my cold hearted supervisor made no sense. Still, the hope dies last. _Why must he be so difficult?_ Everything could be better, especially our relations at work, if Will wouldn't be so stubborn. One could have thought that after nearly 100 years of pursuing my love interest I would take the hint and finally give up. _No chance~_ _What kind of life, or rather post life, would it be if there wasn't be a little love and a bit of game involved_? Maybe it's like they say, the hunt is more exciting than the kill. _And I do love to be in the hunter role~_ If anyone wants to make a bet, that I won't stop my love game with William for a couple of years or for another century, then I'm in. As a Reaper I have the luxury to make really long term goals, unlike humans with their fragile bodies. The bet had to be about a decent sum of course. _"The Sundry Expenses"_ I have to list every month can only cover so much of my various possessions and things I buy.

Glancing at the pages given to me confirmed the assumptions, it wasn't the usual list. In fact, it was a report about the missing souls. _Well, if anybody had paid attention to their job, then the souls wouldn't be missing in the first place!_ I put an index finger to my lips in a thoughtful expression. _Maybe if I'll play it right it won't be another boring assignment?_ After all, many bizarre things are happening in the 19th century Britain.

"Let's see how it will go," I said, as I appeared on one of the many streets of London.

 _All right, what one should do next after getting those surprising notes?_ _Take a break of course!_ I have to admit that I love to take breaks. _There's no better way than to start your morning work with some free time to yourself._ Also I like to have another break for a second breakfast, lunch, afternoon, supper, late supper. Mind, it's not all about eating really. Break for a date, fight, repainting nails, fixing hair, shopping. Or my favourite - a break from a break. Because, depends on what you do on your break you might get tired too, so another break is necessary. _I don't understand how some aren't enthusiastic about my approach in the matter._

After some stretching and hearing familiar crackling in my joints I looked around. The human world was quite bland, as always. The sun was shining bright on the cloudless sky. It wasn't warm, yet it was one of the nicer days of the spring. Chirping birds and people walking in hurry on the streets looked like black ants in the anthill, fog was slowly fading out from that nostalgic picture, being dispersed by the wind. The sun reflected in the dark, closed windows of the wooden and red brick houses giving the feeling of hollowness. Now, I even preferred to work during the day rather than at night, because as the cold days came, people extensively stoked their fireplaces to keep their houses warm. In result, a huge amount of smoke was hanging in the city, covering it like a grey shroud. The smog irked the nostrils and left a bad, bitter taste in my mouth. And since I loved to jump over the rooftops, few of my not so careful escapades ended in going back home covered in black soot. However, even now with more clear air I refused to inhale it more than necessary, here it smelled of dead fish.

As for what I was doing here. There was a small shop nearby that had some interesting items in the past. Though the location of the place made rise some questions about the source of those items. Anyway, I preferred to look for some antique stuff than visit one of the molly-houses that was near. That place had gathered people and services below my level. _Bunch of men pretending to give birth to a baby. How's that's supposed to help anybody!?_

Also, later I was hoping to meet my second person of interest, namely Sebastian Michaelis. That demon, being as he claimed, _"One hell of a butler",_ was usually trotting faithfully after his little master Ciel Phantomhive. Earlier I was able to meet them both during my unusual missions or other unexpected occurrences. I had a feeling that there was a high chance of seeing them today. Because I was good at finding handsome men in the crowd. Besides, the sight of the hellishly beautiful demon would definitely cheer me up more. I had all the time in the world to wait for Will _. But a woman can't be blamed if she finds sooner another equally interesting man, right?_

I strolled past among the mortals, almost like drifting. Bright red coat billowed slightly on the wind as well as fiery red hair around my face giving me a nice feeling. My chartreuse phosphorescent eyes lazily observed everything around. I surely didn't fit in with the image at all. With the sun shining so clearly I must have looked like a flame or firestorm itself. What was interesting was that I didn't get any suspicious looks from passersby, almost like they didn't see me or maybe they didn't want to. Though, in these parts of London, one knows better than to mess up with strangers. Any impertinent stares or commentaries could be perceived as an invitation for trouble.

"Ehe, ehe, eh..."

The merry tone of the laugh I hard felt out of place. It seemed to come from the nearby crossing, a small and dingy street I just passed.

It stirred something in me however, and made me stop in my tracks. Though, actually the common reasoning was that I shouldn't be concerned with something as trivial as this. However, I couldn't help the growing uneasiness. Not liking it at all I spun around trying to locate the source of this disturbing laughter. But there were only some dirty, shady characters, looking ill and poor. They didn't even meet my eyes as I looked at them, though certainly they must have had a hard time ignoring my person.

"Hi, hi... hi"

 _Ah, this again!_ The irritating laugh was heard from another direction. _What is he laughing about!?_

"Hah, ha, hah..."

_Above now? Is it from me? I'll show him a reason to laugh! Jut show your face you-_

"My, my! We meet again!"

"Gah!" Suddenly I felt a pair of hands that clutched my shoulders. Instinctively I turned around, hitting the brick wall with my back.

Next to me stood a tall man, clad in black clothes, with a top hat and silver hair which covered the upper part of his face, but not the manic grin.

After the fleeting blankness in my mind and calming the racing heart in my throat, I muttered, "Oh... It's you."

"Why yes, it's me! My humble person saw you here!" The man muffled another laugh in his oversized sleeve.

To think he managed to surprise me like that. Now I noticed that I was still leaning over the wall. _If I dirtied my precious red coat, he's going to pay for this._ I took the hand from my chest and tried to brush away any dirt that might have gotten on my hair or clothes. "It's not very polite to jump and scare a lady like that."

Recognizing the other put me at ease. Though as much as I was interested in the Mortician. _Those eyes and face were engraved in my memory!_ He was still giving me the creeps. Mysterious was a good word to describe him. Nobody knew his name or at least I've never heard of it. _If one doesn't share their name, they probably have something to hide. Few speculated about it and I could understand that, but to go as far as making up the names for him?_ _Honestly, whatever for?_ That guy probably doesn't care, but it deprives him from his secret. Also, I started to wonder about my ability to find good looking men in a crowd. _Maybe if he would do something to his hair or clothes..._

"Ah, I'm sorry," he said with a tip of his hat. "You just caught my attention being the only bright spot in this place." He gesticulated, flowingly with his hand hidden in the oversized sleeve. "So what brings you here, Burnett's butler?"

 I answered, with a smile, putting hands on my hips, "I'm not a butler anymore, my dear. I'm here on a very special mission~" And to accent the word 'special' I pointed the finger at him.

"Oh, I see... ehe, ehe... Then I won't be stopping you." He waved with sleeves again looking as if he was ready to turn around and go.

"No, wait!" I put my hands up. "Maybe you could help a lady in distress?" I winked at the other.

Undertaker crooked his head as if he was parodying a serious thinker. "Why not? Would you like to accompany me? I was just heading back home."

"Home... you mean?"

"My funeral parlour." He looked as if he was having good fun with pointing this out.

To be honest the idea of visiting the Mortician's parlour wasn't appealing to me in the slightest. Though I had to reconsider the idea especially when the occasion for some entertainment  presented itself. _Besides, wasn't that brat always running up to him for help?_

"Come, I'll serve some tea. You met me in good humour, I was just coming back from a splendid gala!"

I lifted my brow in an astonished manner. "What gala?" _He doesn't look like somebody coming back from a luxurious party._

"The last and most important gala of every person..." He stood, swaying there and grinning like mad, probably hoping that I would catch up to his eccentric sense of humour. After a moment of my silence he sighed, "The funeral of course..."

 _Oh, that... no..._ "It's not much of a gala if you're the one who can't enjoy it."

The tone and obvious look on my face throw him into another fit of giggles."Might it be. But how marvellous it often is."

I could swear he had a dreamy look on his face, though I couldn't see half of it. "All right, I'll go." No matter how much I might have regretted it, I wanted to have this past me.

"Great! Please come here, I'll give you a ride. It's true my place is not far away, but I was already coming back by a carriage."

 _A ride? How I could say no to that? A man offering a ride to lady..._ We went back behind the corner-

"A funeral carriage!?"

The Mortician stopped mid walk, placed one hand on his hip and turned to me with expression as if I just asked if the sky was blue. Then he went merry again, "A ride is a ride, isn't it? I thought someone of your profession won't be so picky about it."

"I'm not picky," I said automatically. _Geez, where's romanticism in that?_ "And I'm a deadly efficient Reaper!"

"Good. Give me a hand," he agreed, as he took my hand tugging it slightly in the direction of the carriage steps.

Before I even knew it I was already seated on the plush seat. "Th-Thank you."

"Not a problem." He climbed too and took a seat next to me. After taking the reins in his hands with those unnaturally long, black fingernails , he whistled at the two black, matching horses to move. The carriage wheels rattled on the cobble stone.

I looked back, but indeed the inside of the carriage was empty. If there was any coffin before, now it was resting six feet underground. _Honestly, the guy can't be any more morbid..._

After a while he asked, "Want to hold the reins?"

"Huh?"

"These are the most gentle horses you'd ever see. Hm?" He nudged me in the arm and brought the reins closer.

I took it cautiously. "Okay. Though the last time-"

_The last time I was holding the reins was when I was playing the useless butler for Madam Red._

_("Look where you're driving!")_

_("We only arrived so late because Grell went the wrong way!")_

_I had so much fun playing that role, though it was difficult at times._

_("I really don't know if you just play an idiot or you're one. You could've killed us all. I'm not letting you drive again.")_

The Mortician smiled gently. "Hm?"

I tugged at the left rein so the horses would make an easy turn. "Nothing."

He seemed to be content with the reply, though.

As we were riding some people would bow respectfully to the Undertaker and he always responded with the tip of his hat. On the other hand I also noticed that some would look away from the carriage as if being afraid of it, like of a black cat. And others would simply stare at me, probably wondering why a person glowing with red colour is holding the reins of a hearse. To be honest, I was asking myself about it too. Sitting close to the Mortician I couldn't help but notice how different his clothes smelled. _Spruce?_ _And something else..._ I couldn't quite decipher it, the scent was really faint actually, though it wasn't pleasant. Nevertheless, with the directions of my odd companion, we arrived safely and without any mishaps to the funeral parlour. The grey, downcast building fitted into the area around.

He generously helped me get off the carriage. _Maybe he can be a gentleman when he wants to be..._

"Give them this." He handed me two cookies from his pocket.

 _Hmm, a bone shaped cookie._ I turned it in my fingers. _More fitting to give it to a dog not a horse._ I gave it another turn. Then it hit me, a funeral parlour, bone shaped cookies. _Uh, the guy can't be more obvious, can he?_ I took off my black glove and fed the horses. They gently ate the cookies as their mouths tickled my hand. Though their big, dark eyes observed me attentively, they didn't appear to be scared of my presence or touch. I believe animals know who they're dealing with.

"Come in, come in. I'll prepare some tea." Undertaker made an inviting gesture and opened the door.

 _They must have gotten used to death._ I petted the horses one last time and went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Molly-house was a term used in 18th and 19th century England for a meeting place for homosexual men._   
>  _"Mock-birth" rituals: during which a man dressed in a nightgown pretended to be a woman giving birth to a baby assisted by fellow Mollies as "midwives". This ritual almost certainly originated as a couvade, designated to collectively relieve the extreme stress this particular social group was forced to live under._


	4. I Know What You Did Last Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Some hilarity ensues... As if could it be any other way when Undertaker is around._

* * *

Half of the funeral parlour was enshadowed in the warm light of the oil lamps ignited by the owner of this morbid place. With the lack of windows you couldn't even tell if it was day or night outside. The first thing that caught my eye were four evenly spaced coffins placed in the middle. Their lids were closed, though it didn't prevent my imagination running wild with assumptions of who might be resting eternally inside them. If anybody was, that is.

I slowly went past, the dark floor cracked under my shoes, but the lids still had my full attention. Two of the coffins stood out in the room, being the brighter ones, made of light pinewood. The thin silver cross on one lid glinted with golden reflection for a second like a forgotten ray of the sunset.

As I was moving the familiar scents reached my nose again. First, an aromatic spruce which the source of were freshly cut twigs - they laid in the left corner of the room. Another was varnish probably used to paint over the coffin's wood. Though, despite all of it mixed with the old house smell, there was also another fragrance, very subtle and unnerving. I scented it before on Undertaker's clothes, but I couldn't find the source of it right now. _He should leave the door open for some time to let the fresh air in, it might ease the smell of death too._

"I should have the teapot somewhere here..." Undertaker chatted. Though I wasn't sure if it was addressed to my person or more to himself. He was rummaging behind the desk, positioned straight across from me. Clattering noises followed his movement.

_Darn, I forgot to tell him that I don't like the tea actually._ To voice my opinion and interrupt his unsuccessful search I raised my finger to say, "You know, I-"

"No, no, no! It's not a problem at all!" he suddenly burst out, flopping with his sleeves and darted towards me. "I don't often have guests here." He took both of my palms into his hands. "Hah!" But for a moment he placed his hand under the rim of his hat, as in a gesture of forgetting something. "I mean, _the_ _guests_ that are alive." He put the hand back onto mine. "Not the ones I usually have. Hi hi hi~"

Despite the paleness of his skin, even more noticeable than mine, and coolness of the air around, he had warm hands. The unexpected sensation halted my thoughts.

"Don't be shy. Look around! Maybe some of my items will interest you?"

_What a gentle touch._ The warmth flowed through my gloves.

"The last time I saw you here feels like ages, though, back then you looked even more lost and shy than now."

I noticed he let go of my hands and prodded me in the direction of the shelves. "Shy?" _How sad William didn't want to hold my hands like this._ I missed the gesture and evaporating warmness. "Darling, shy is the word that exist for me only in the dictionary~" Gently, giving him an intense look, I slid my finger through his arm clad in the mourning fabric. "I played a useless butler back then, but I'm glad of any meeting when I'm more true to myself."

The scar on his cheek moved as he smiled. "I noticed your acting skills." He picked up a skull from the shelf. "The world... A stage where every man must play a part and mine a sad one..." He gazed into the hollow skull's eye sockets.

"You know Shakespeare~"

"Why of course, I've been some time on this world." He grinned and passed me the skull. "The Seven Ages of Man it's like watching the Cinematic Record, isn't it?"

Contemplating it for a moment, I agreed, "It is." The skull was yellowish and light in my hands. One small detail was different, though. There was a little hole at the top of it. _A bullet wound?_

"Death is viewed as an end, but sometimes I wonder what if the end had a continuation?" he replied in a dreamy voice. "Though, this fellow here is done for good." He pointed at the skull I was holding. "An unlucky case of trepanation. Heh heh he."

"Hm... I bet you must feel lonely here."

"Ah, being Undertaker is fun!" He gave a vast wave with his sleeves. "And I have all the company I need." He started to chuckle silently again.

"Huh?"

"My _'guests'_ are keeping me company and busy by the way. They're very patient ones, if I can say so~ Can't say that about some of their families, though," he added, brushing his thumb against his chin. "But I can always turn in for advice to one of these fellows!" He gestured to the row of skulls that was on the nearest shelf.

I furrowed my brows. "You ask _them_ for advice?"

"Well, sometimes I have to speak with somebody intelligent!" He went into the giggling fit.

_Of course. The dreadful sanity has nothing on him._ Circling with my fingertip around the hole in the skull, I pointed out, "Still, this place could use a woman's hand."

His hand waved dismissively. "An old Undertaker is just fine. And I'm afraid the living qualities here would not befit any lady."

_I have to agree with that. Though, a lonely handsome man can be an easy prey for some inconsiderate women. I wonder if I can make him lift that fringe of his again._

"Ah, but where're my manners!? I forgot about the tea completely." He rushed back to search through the lower rows of shelves covering the wall behind the desk, his silver hair with length comparable to mine flowed after him. "I could've sworn I didn't put it inside one of the coffins. I mean, the _'guests'_ aren't that thirsty... for tea! Hahahah!" More clattering sounds echoed. "Where're you hiding little teacup?~"

_Ugh, not the tea again._ Absently I scratched the top of the skull more nervously. "-"

"Here it is!" He placed the teapot on the desk next to the medical model of the upper half of a human body and between empty vials, and loose pages. "It was hiding under the newspapers, clever one. I used to read obituaries, as a hobby."

"Maybe you could-" Suddenly I couldn't move my index finger. _What the...?_

"Yes?"

Looking down I saw my finger stuck inside a hole in the skull. _Shit!_ The feeling of something cold spreading through my veins transformed into the heat on my cheeks. "Um..." I glanced at him, but he wasn't paying any attention to me. So I tried to pull out my finger, but it wouldn't bulge. "Mhm... Maybe- You could find some special blend... to celebrate our reunion!" I blunted out, putting all my will to sound flirty and not weak.

Undertaker, who was standing with his back turned to me holding newspapers, complied, "Sure, I have plenty of different blends of tea here."

_Damn it. Why won't it come out?!_ I pulled the finger harder but it was still resistant.

Then I saw him throw a look towards the right, where there was an empty coffin leaning against the wall. If my memory was right, it was probably the same he said he used to sleep in, and next to it chair occupied by unpacked boxes of some vials and other indescribable objects.

I heard my heart pound.

"Hmm... No help, I have to somehow get up there anyway," he said, putting the newspapers away and climbed up to reach the top shelf. "What will you say for a rose flavour?"

I sighed with relief. _Blasted skull._ "Uh... Too bland."

The Mortician returned to the search and I to salvaging my finger. No matter how much I tried I couldn't free it out.

"How about citrus?"

_Maybe if I'd place it at a different angle?_ _Worth a try._ "No, too bitter." _Gotta keep him busy with the tea!_ I put the skull between elbow and my side and tired to pull again. _I bet that old geezer did this on purpose. Ugh, so he could have a laugh till judgment day._

"Hm, maybe a raspberry one?"

I grunted under my breath. "No!"

"All right~ No need to get emotional about the tea, hehe."

I gritted my teeth and waved my hand with the skull around like mad.

"Blueberry?

I did not stop even when my own finger bones were screaming to not add any more pressure. "-No, thanks~"

"Oh, I should have had the tea blends somewhere lower, it's difficult to go through them up here. Mint maybe?"

"Nah."

"Peach?"

"Nope." I felt the heat radiating under my shirt like from a small oven and sweat ready at any second to form on my forehead. _Good he isn't seeing it._

"Aren't you a picky one?"

_Stupid finger..._ "Just a lady's caprice..." Finally, in the last desperate attempt, I placed the skull between my thighs and bended over as I was pulled my stuck finger. With every pull swinging back and forth in very an unladylike manner.

He sighed. "Okay... how about vanilla?"

"Ordinary," I replied without thought. However, I felt my finger slightly slipping up. _Finally a breakthrough!_

"You know, maybe I should just serve you tea sweetened with salt? Hihi, that would make it stand out, hm?"

And then, just like that, my finger was plucked out form the hole. "Yes!" _Saved!_

"Really?" Undertaker turned his head around and the smile left his face seconds after, leaning away from the shelf, he asked, "What're you doing with my skuuu-" Then he tumbled down with a loud thud that made me flinch.

The desk shook as if hit with a sudden blast. Vials jingled in chorus, the medical model toppled over and its head fell off as the Mortician's hat rolled over stopping next to three small, white painted coffins made for children. The long strip of black fabric attached to the hat was like a trail leading to the place of the accident.

"Ouch." Was the only word that came to my mind.

Heavy silence covered the parlour like a blanket. I took out the disastrous skull from between my thighs and placed it back on the shelf. Normally I would excused myself and leave the place, but... He wasn't a mere mortal and William just adored the guy. So I cautiously went up to the desk to check up on him.

I heard a soft moan and a bony hand with an emerald ring emerged, feeling around the countertop, long, black fingernails scratched its surface. Followed by it, appeared a second hand and a head full of flowing, silver hair.

"Are you all right?"

"Oh... I've seen the land of pain," Undertaker replied in a weak voice, massaging his scalp. Probably to reach the more painful area, he slid his hand under the fringe and lifted it fully.

_What a sight it was!_ Despite the rather painful expression, I saw a handsome, lean face, without any wrinkles, adorned by a pair of glossy chartreuse, phosphorescent eyes with grey lashes. Though, there was a dark scar crossing his face, running through cheek, nose and eye. But in all honesty, it didn't take away from all the charm. I couldn't help but wonder what happened to him. Then, I realised I saw his face just like I wanted. Maybe the circumstances of it were different from the ones in my imagination, but it didn't matter. _Why don't I have my camera when I need it!?_ _This picture of pain and beauty._ _Beauty and death intertwined._ Feeling fuzzy inside, I fought the need to grin like mad. However, I thought to myself with pride _: mission accomplished._

Soon after, Undertaker got up and the fringe fell back into its place. Hiding the scene like a curtain in the theatre. He searched for his hat and after picking it up, he dusted it off and placed it back on his head. "Let's just say I won't be curious about what you're doing with my skull," he said in a meaningful tone.

_Ah, that again._ I wanted to tell him that I wasn't exactly doing anything to it, but then I remembered that I couldn't tell him about the finger incident. Though another idea occurred to my mind. I placed a hand on my hip and confidently replied, "I was just asking it for some advice."

He froze mid-walk. "Advice?"

"Well, haven't you said yourself that you ask the skulls for advice? That's what I did."

Undertaker seemed to contemplate the answer for a moment. "I did, but also I'm not curious what kind of advice you needed," he replied with a grin.

"Hmpf."

"You know, I thought to use that skull as a pen holder. More themed decor~"

_Pen holder... more like finger swallower._ _Good thing the hole in it is so small you can't stick anything bigger inside. I bet if one wanted to put something other than a finger it would get stuck too._

Undertaker picked up the head of a medical model and commented, "He always loses his head in the most critical moments." A giggle rose under his breath, as he was placing the head where it belong. "No wonder, he's the one lacking brains!"

Now I couldn't help but chuckle too. Indeed the mannequin had an empty spot where his fake brain should be. It probably fell out when the head hit the ground. Though the problem was  quickly fixed by finding the lost item. _Now I know how he survived so long on his own, he can turn everything into a joke._

"So, you still want the salted tea?"

I blinked, completely baffled. "What?"

"Before, you expressed the desire to taste the salted tea. Nothing seemed to please you, though now I know why."

_Hah, feeling cheeky? Though, from where had he gotten the notion that I wanted the salted tea?_ It must have happened when I was busy with salvaging my digit, at the time everything he said went in one ear and out the other. "Well, the salted tea would be as sharp as a twinge of love, but I'll be just fine with Earl Grey, dear."

He just nodded. "Suit yourself."

After everything I decided to just go along with the tea idea. Though, it reminded me of how I once served salted tea to Madam Red. In the disguise of a butler I wanted that stuffed up brat to taste it, but Madam too soon made  so much noise about it, that in the end it didn't work out.

Then I saw him picking up two wide measuring cylinders. So I stood in his way as he carried them to the desk. "I don't think so. Gentleman shouldn't be pouring tea into some laboratory glass." Snorting, I made sure he saw my displeasure.

He observed me for a while, chewing on his bottom lip, then finally broke out, "Ah, you caught me~ I do have suitable glasses, but it's more fun to use these!" He shook the measuring cylinders to prove the point.

I tapped my foot while crossing arms on my chest.

"Fine. Be a dear and put them back, all right?" He unceremoniously pushed the cylinders into my arms.

_Uh. Why me?_ I cried mentally as I barely managed to catch them. However, after the thought that if I made a fuss he could go back to using the laboratory glass, I decided not to voice my complaints. _Who knows what was in them before?_

As I was placing the cylinders back on the shelves covering the West wall, I noticed the vast amount of jars and vessels occupying all of the free space. Some of the jars contained organs, probably preserved in formalin, I quickly recognized a heart in one of them. And with closer inspection I also saw a cut off yellowish hand with black fingernails. I grimaced turning my head. Further away stood a bottle with a dirty surface, but the scent coming from it pointed to it as the source of the peculiar smell I scented before on Undertaker's clothes and inside the parlour. I almost touched it when I read the label, _"Embalming fluid"._

"You can use some if you want." I heard the Mortician saying between the sounds of boiling water and jiggling of glass.

Scoffing, I replied, "Whatever for?"

"Really good for moisturizing hands. Makes them... _well_ _preserved_." He chortled with laughter.

I felt my lips twist at the thought. _Good God, I hope he'll use a spoon to prepare the tea._

In the last second when I wanted to walk away from the shelves I was stopped by something that undeniably caught my attention. Taking two steps to the right I stared at the jar filled with yellow liquid. Inside was something oval like with limbs. I took the jar from the shelf and brushed off the dust that accumulated on its glass. The revelation of what was inside startled me and my eyes went wide; it was a human fetus. Tiny closed eyes on the big head, minuscule fingers pressed into fist with thumb stuck in mouth.

"Do you want some?"

I almost jumped when I heard the question. From behind the glass's jar Undertaker's distorted face was looking at me. "Really tasty with the warm tea," he repeated, smiling.

"Wha-"

"No need to be modest, I have enough for both of us~"

Nausea took over me replacing the confusion. _You twisted..._ The urge to bash his head with the jar rose tenfold. However, when I lowered it I saw him holding an urn filled to brim with brown, bone shaped cookies.

"Uh, no thank you," was all I managed to reply.

"Okay, though they are really tasty with the warm tea, I baked them this morning. Just telling you!" The Mortician smirked and took a bite of the cookie. He trotted back and seated himself on the lid of one of the coffins. Then nodded at the silver tray placed beside him, that had two steaming glasses on it and a fitting silver sugar-bowl. "Come sit, tea is ready."

With some sort of relief I placed the jar with the fetus back on the shelf and walked up to the coffin across from the Mortician. Hesitantly I took a seat on its lid which immediately cracked under the pressure and slightly bend down. My restless mind supplied me with a vision of the lid finally breaking under my weight and causing me to land on the corpse laying inside. Maybe the only good thing would be that I was sitting in the middle and not at the head of the coffin, otherwise I would smash someone's rotting face. _Ugh..._ Fortunately nothing of the sort happened which for I was extremely grateful as Undertaker passed me the silver tray offering tea. Though the warmth of the glass was comforting against my gloves, my body was taut as the string of a bow.

"Relax, the dead won't rise... _yet._ "

After taking a sip of the bitter tea I thought about his peculiar sense of humour.

However, Undertaker continued, "I know you wanted to ask me about something and I'll gladly help you, but I want to ask for something too. I don't like when the laughter dies. Such a pretty day deserves a merry story, won't you agree? You have proven yourself to be a bright star upon the dull reality. Certainly you could tell me something worthy of a first rate laugh~" His grin was now even wider than before.

"Why? I thought you had enough laughter for today."

He hummed. "Well, it might have helped me forget how you compromised that skull~"

_Oh, come on, give it a break!_ "I did not-" However, after taking deep breath I calmed myself. "All right. I know a lot of juicy stories to tell~"

"Great!"

My mind was going through all the possible tales which could amuse the guy. Some of them were ridiculous accidents, some were inspired by the Cinematic Records. There were also ones I've heard from Madam Red, obscenely improper ones. And those about gruesome slaughters in the night. Hectolitres of blood marking the streets and walls, flowing like a warm river through my chainsaw and hands. However, after taking one look at my host who was fidgeting on his seat like a small child awaiting presents, I knew he wouldn't be satisfied with those. He wished to hear something silly and simple.

_Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it._ I cleared my throat and said, "I think this will humour you definitely~"

I intended to tell a story which my supervisor William would find both embarrassing and dreadful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The Seven Ages of Man are the seven developmental stages of a person's life, as outlined by William Shakespeare in "As You Like It."_


	5. The Devil Commands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Grell mentions the day William would like to forget._

* * *

"Listen carefully then," I instructed, placing the glass with tea away to have free hands.

Telling stories is like playing in the theatre, it requires dedication and full gesticulation if you want to say them right.

"It happened some time ago..."

* * *

_This was one of the worst days of my life. I just recently came back from the Council meeting and as I suspected they were merciless to me. Now, standing in William's office which was bland and dull as ever, I listened to the never ending rant about my disgraceful behaviour._

_"How could you do that! You violated one of the most important rules of being a Shinigami!" William huffed, "To think that you also declared your silly feelings to that vermin, a demon! I honestly don't know what to think about it. You've crossed the line too many times, Sutcliff."_

_"But Willu~"_

_"I'm confiscating your scythe and preparing a list of chores for you to do, the demotion is nowhere near the punishment you should have gotten."_

_Maybe this wouldn't happened if you weren't ignoring me, I thought, but out loud I said, "It was all a play! Will, I'd never..."_

_"Damn it, I'm not Will, not even William for you! It's Mr. Spears! Mr. Spears! Now take this scissors and get the hell out!"_

_"But-"_

_"GET OUT!"_

_Well, I definitely managed to get some lively reaction from him. However, it wasn't my intention to be yelled at._

* * *

 "So you see, I wasn't in the best mood. And the scissors were just awful... What was I supposed to do with them? Cut-outs?! Honestly, that was ridiculous and I had to paint them red later to at least give them some colour."

At that moment Undertaker was only smirking, listening intently.

"But that's not the case," I added with one hand brushing my hair, huffing dramatically for a good performance before continuing. "You see, I find the human world quite bland and not thrilling at all. Actually, I don't have anything against spending some time in our realm or my home, but, since they prohibited me from leaving, the mortal world got ten times more attractive. I don't know! I can't explain it, but I had a hard time ignoring those urges to throw caution to the wind and just jump to the first London street I could manage. Not to mention, Will took away my scythe and locked it up to make sure I couldn't sneak it back. What a heartbreaking time it was~!" Clutching both of my fists brought out the distress that was surely painted all over my face. "That's when I thought a little prank was in order." A wide grin flashed on my lips, presenting all of my sharp pointed teeth.

* * *

  _That lazy morning of the faithful day for William was unfolding flawlessly, until I set my plan in motion to add some spice and energy. Everything was almost ready when I got my hands on his morning coffee. I took out an innocent looking, small bottle from my coat's pocket and admired the transparent liquid inside. With a smile I thought about how much this day will be different for Will. Then, I poured a healthy... hefty dose of it into his coffee. Fighting the excitement and anxiety, I snuck out of the room unnoticed._

_After a while I didn't have to wait for the results anymore. Dearest William practically run out of his office with a rather painful expression and a hand hugged to his abdomen. Now I knew that, for some time, me and my scythe will be the last things on his mind._

_Using my short but newly gained freedom I reunited with my beloved chainsaw. It was like meeting a long lost lover~ The memorable days we spent together ready to fight anything and anyone, the last dramatic duets played with souls! I cherished the moment when I could roam the mortal realm again with it. Alas! Every adventure must come to an end. Like the last act to a play, as the talented actress awaits to hear the curtain call. And so I knew I had to come back and part my ways for a while with my dear scythe again._

_The chest, placed in the secured room, swallowed whole the creation of my hands. "Sleep," I cooed to it, sliding my hand through the blade. "Wait for my summoning call." Then I closed the chest's lid._

_I suppose it's true that you appreciate things more when they are gone. How fitting it was in the light of the recent events. Madam, you were not fit to wear red, but the legend we created went to history and beyond!_

_As I strolled through the Dispatch's corridors, that day a curious gossips reached my ears. Apparently, William T. Spears was acting odd and was unable to weather through a very important meeting with the Council. He couldn't provide a decent answer to his superiors and left the meeting in the middle with no indication of return. Very unprofessional if you ask me. There was also another rumour which stated that when seeing the head of Collection's Department, who brought special documents about the upcoming reaping schedule, seeking Will’s thoughts about them, Will’s response was to vomit all over the papers and Collection head's shoes and pants. I think I don't have to mention that some of the more brave witnesses were applauding Will's choice of wording, or rather lack of thereof, in a reply to more overtime._

_"Finally said- done something that I can relate to, you know?" was one of the comments I heard._

_"Yeah, he had the 'guts' to tell the Collection's what we think about their timetables," the other Reaper chimed up, snorting._

_In the midst of laughing I assured my companions that Will's poor toleration of overtime and allergy to it is at fault here, these are merely its symptoms. Though, I heavily regretted that I didn't see the event on my own eyes. Then I went on an elaborate reply about how overtime affects William's personal life._

_Later that day I've also heard he burped loudly when asked by other supervisors if he's going to eat lunch with them and that he farted around secretaries. It couldn't get any more embarrassing. Who knew that my little idea will also work as a competitors repellent? After all, no lady would want to date a man who farts in public. Will, you have no shame~_

_I had to find my distressed man before he would incriminate himself completely. He wasn't in his office so I had to ask around. Some older guy I've met, who worked as an accountant, told me that Will suffered now from a sudden hiccup attack. He figured it out while going through bills he heard William saying, "Chick!, please" instead of "Check, please"._

"Stop that, I haven't finished yet!" I glared at Undertaker who had both hands clasped at his mouth and was shaking visibly.

_I had to find him soon. After getting some more directions I figured out in what place he was hiding._

_As I entered the men's restroom a single hiccup came from one of the stalls._

_"William dear, are you here?" I asked immediately, being sure the presence of a person he knew for so long would have a soothing effect on him on this difficult day._

_Silence greeted my question._

_I tried once again, "_ _Are_ _you_ _all_ _right_ _?"_

 _Again_ _silence._ _Guess_ _I_ _cured_ _his_ _hiccup_ _then, I knew I could help._ _"You_ _could_ _thank me for helping with the hiccup, it must have been dreadful. Say, why don't you take me to a restaurant for lunch as a reward, hm? After you get well of course." Have to be reasonable otherwise he would just embarrass me._

_There was a low grunt coming from the grey stall nearest to the entrance and a strained voice said, "Go away."_

_"Aw, don't be like that. I want to help." Actually I was feeling slightly guilty of my involvement in his current situation._

_"You can help me by leaving me at peace."_

_I shook my head in amusement. "Tsk, tsk. Aren't you tricky, hm? But maybe I could do something for you, really? You see, I've heard this awful news that you're feeling very unwell today and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing." Leaning against the sinks for some comfort I continued, "I mean, how everyone talked and talked about you, like there was no better topic to gossip about. Seriously! Their mouths weren't closing for a second. It was completely disgusting, badmouthing you like that. I wished to take no part in it. For real, on every floor, every corridor..."_

_"Sutcliff-"_

_"Every office. Honestly, everyone from a janitor to a management officer were just talking about you! I mean, the office gossips are the worst in a place like this. I think-"_

_"Sutcliff, shut up!"_

_I blinked. "Oh..." Then shifting my body to lean better against the sinks, replied, "Well, I see it's not that bad with you after all. You are still cold as ever." I hugged my arms. "Colder than the floor tiles here, colder than the coldest water running in these faucets, colder than-"_

_"Just stop..." an almost defeated plea emerged through the stall's door._

_I furrowed my brows. Maybe there is something else wrong besides his body though. "But Will, I did say I wanted to help... I know! You feel awful, maybe I can cheer you up? I know this one song, it goes like this." Spinning around on the green floor tiles I chanted "One girl wanted to chill, took a bottle of gin-"_

_"Sutcliff! I didn't come here for an entertainment."_

_That put a stop to my singing and merry jiggling in the middle of the bathroom._

_"I got poisoned. I don't know, maybe-"_

_My eyes went wide and hands clutched my head in a dramatic gesture. "Good gracious!" I continued without a thought, "William, who did this!?I'll cut them to pieces, cut them in the most gruesome way you can imagine! Just tell me who! One word, Will! One word! And I'll cut them to death!" Out of habit I reached under the sides of my coat for my Death Scythe, pulling out a pair of tiny scissors which made an almost silent snipping sound ruining the moment forever._

_Where was my chainsaw? Its loud roar alone spread the fear in the hearts of my enemies! Ah, it's locked up in a chest awaiting the better times, like an Excalibur awaiting its rightful wielder._

_"Do you still wish to work here?" William asked in a dull tone._

_I cried out a single, "But!" The poisoning... Then I realized... Oh wait..._

_An uncomfortable silence fell between us. The circumstances of our conversation were, to say at the least, odd. I looked at the stalls with their grey doors, hanging above the floor which left a small crack between the door and tiles. A thought formed in my mind: what if Will sits there without his pants on? Wouldn't this mean that, if I were to crouch on the floor and lower my head just enough, I could see what underwear he has? I never dared to harass him behind the bathroom stall's door, it would be rude and highly improper, I'm not like that. But, for example, hairpins can fall on the floor anytime, right? I dug inside my pocket and pulled out a metal hairpin, then I let it fall on the floor. The high feeble sound resonated through the place. After getting to my knees I placed both of my hands on the cold tiles-_

_"What are you doing, Sutcliff?"_

_Frozen mid-way, I replied, "Nothing! I just lost my hairpin is all."_

_"Stop whatever you're doing and get up this instant."_

_"Sure, I'll-"_

_"Now. I know what you are up to."_

_How can he know? I asked myself in bewilderment. He can't see a thing!_

_"Sutcliff, I'll ask you one last time to get up, you'll regret it heavily if you don't."_

_Uh... Will is no fun at all. I picked up the pin and got up. "How-"_

_"You think I don't know you after all these years?"_

_"No, you don't," I immediately replied with a pout._

_"You shouldn't be here in the first place, I'll be going home and not coming back until I feel better and you have more than enough chores to do to keep you busy right now."_

_"But Will, you chased me out of the women's bathroom too! Don't you remember what you said to me?" I took a pose in which usually children recite poetry."You said: Grell Sutcliff, you are a male therefore you should use the men's bathroom. And here I am! Just where you wanted me to be~" I spread my arms to emphasize my point._

_A pained groan echoed through the door. "I did that, because the women that work here have been complaining about a Moaning Reaper haunting the bathroom on the first floor. They were afraid of going there!"_

_I grunted. "It's not my fault that this bathroom is the closest one to my office. And you don't know what a bad hair day is! Tch, I'd like to see them try maintain hair of a length like mine."_

* * *

 The roar of Undertaker's laughter interrupted my storytelling. He slid down from the coffin onto the wooden floor, trying to say something in the midst of spasms. "You-" He covered his mouth for a moment. "H-haunt... the bathroom!" He couldn't stop.

My little tale got me in a good mood too, but I had to straighten out some things. "That's what he said, but it's not as funny as it looks! It's hard to achieve perfect make-up and hairstyle every day, you know?"

"That prank... devilishly simple- ... but how effective!" He wiped out the tears which streamed down his cheek with his hand.

Feeling flattered, I replied lightly with a grin, "Will is always so stiff, I wanted to loosen him up a bit~"

"He's stiff like a corpse hit with _rigor mortis_!" Undertaker cried out. "And you loosened him up- literally!" He went into a laughing fit again, curling up on the floor, and his comment made me join in the laughter too.

"Oh, I've seen my paradise." After fixing his back against the coffin and wiping off the drool of silva that was running out of his mouth with his sleeve, Undertaker placed the hat back on his head again. "I had the displeasure to meet this _Willy_ guy and I have to admit he's the best person to be pranked~"

Still chuckling, I entwined my fingers. "Well, it's hard to get any emotion from him, maybe besides anger or displeasure _." I don't know if pranking would gain me any favours with him. It's not like anything I do wins them too._ "You know he actually admires you? If asked he brings back Marie Antoinette, Robin Hood and all that jaaz."

"Past times." The Mortician waved with his hand dismissively. "He's such a fussy guy. In return you can tell him I find him annoying and noisy. However, he's welcome to my funeral parlour as one of the _'guests'_ whom I receive almost every day. You can learn much more from the dead than from the ones who live." He grinned widely. "Otherwise surely I would die from ennui if he were to order me around."

Snorting I replied, "I'll remember the next time I meet him." Though there's no way I would repeat his words to William. Not that I cared about shattering the image of his idol who wanted to bury him, but I definitely cared about my own skin. "Will didn't approve of my recent wrongdoings... maybe that set him off more than usual."

"You won't know what could be possible if you follow the rules blindly." He seated himself back on the coffin, placing one leg on another. "So, what nasty business you got yourself into now?" ~~~~

I sighed tiredly at the reminder and shortly described the situation. ~~~~

Undertaker hummed. "Missing, eh? Soul can get lost in many different ways." He scratched his chin. "Maybe I can tell you something that might be helpful. Usually the ones who come here are asking about my _'guests'._ If they were mutilated in a loathsome way, disembowelled, missed some body parts, perhaps a head? Decapitation is popular lately. _Hee, hee..._ Although I'm aware of human's interest in the afterlife. It's a mark of this century after all, any form of contact with the other side became a game for the aristocracy, at times quite a dangerous game. I had proof of something bizarre going on in the place you mentioned. It's possible that some practices can attract forces out of this world."

I tilted my head to the side. "What was it?"

"Eyes," he exclaimed and leaned closer to whisper in a conspicuous tone, "A very pretty pair of eyeballs that had to be framed~ Like a portrait. _Hee, hee_..."

 _Framing the..._ "Really?"

"Why yes. You think I do nothing more than listen to underground gossips and prepare the funerals? Of course what I do is very entertaining, but I can put my skills into creating finer things." He moved the hand to his side and partly lifted up a long, thin chain with a row of mourning lockets attached. "My greatest treasure~" The lockets moved and jingled on the chain, reflecting the flames of oil lamps. "Also, they were indeed eyes of a beauty even after the light of life faded in them. My informant said they were the eyes the paymaster fell in love with. I must admit they looked astounding in the golden integument."

Instantly I thought about Sebastian's eyes. _That dashing red... Maybe it isn't such an odd idea._ Lowering my sight I glanced at the small chain hanging on the level of my trousers' pocket, it consisted of beads that resembled the mangosteen fruits. Certainly, I would find some place where I could attach the eyes of a demon. They could stay with me forever even if their owner would perish.

"There were also rumours of organising séances and such, disappearances of certain people, but these kind of events are... _Nihil novi_ in certain circles _."_

"I see..."

He observed me for a while. "Disappointed?"

"I- I don't know." Looking around made me notice the amount of cobwebs hanging in the corners at the ceiling. Huffing, I crossed my hands over my chest. "Okay look. I don't dig in this detective stuff, but I have to tell Will something because he'll accuse me of slacking again." After a short pause I added, "Since after the Jack the Ripper mess he assigns me to the most odd cases and now I have to participate in some qualification course to babysit some rookie they'll give me. It's just... annoying."

The Mortician shrugged. "You can't complain about the lack of new experience." He took a bite of a cookie from the urn. "Just do what you can and do not what you can't. Don't be upset about the rookie, though." He swallowed the last bite. "After all, you'll be somewhat in a position of power over him. Think of it as a gain of a personal assistant," he concluded with a warm smile.

Now, the way he phrased the last sentence got me to thinking: _Maybe it's not so bad after all. Let's say I would be in need of a morning coffee, I would have someone to send for it. Or the dreadful amount of paperwork, I could assign it to them as practice! Not to mention the influence I could have over..._

"You need anything else?"

Running my hand through the long strands of my hair I thought I needed many things indeed. "You know a lot about people."

Undertaker got up and placed the urn with the bone shaped cookies on the desk. "Yes. My curiosity about them is what keeps me busy..." He strode to the right where other shelves full of vigil lights were climbing up the wall next to the dark wardrobe. "I believe the things are more interesting when you're off the chain."

Observing him I pointed, "Still, you run a lonesome existence."

He spread his arms, saying, "It's not that lonesome as you think and I'm a man of many secrets."

That statement perked up my interest, lifting up my brows I asked, "Oh, really? You know, I like men with secrets~" Strolling to the wardrobe, that was between us now, I slid my finger through its polished door. "I do wonder what secrets you have. Something like hiding skeletons in the closet?" Chuckling I batted my eyelashes.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Undertaker gestured towards the wardrobe stepping back.

His answer confused me, nevertheless, after eyeing him carefully, I proceed to open the wardrobe's door. The hinges cringed loudly in the silent room.

"Eek!" With a yelp I backed out as a skeleton fell out of it, aiming straight for my face and crashing on the floor.

"HAHAHAHAH!" laughing, the Undertaker was slapping his hand on his knee. "It's one of the oldest jokes ever! And you fell for it!" He shook his head. "You're truly entertaining."

Grimacing I felt like I was being cheated. "No wonder you only have the company of the dead, if you pull that kind of joke all the time!" _Seriously..._

Though he looked unfazed by my acerbic comment and just picked up the skeleton from the floor which miraculously didn't fell apart. Must've been one specially prepared for that occasion. Then he grasped it like it was his dancing partner and just waltzed away, gracefully maneuvering between the coffins. "I'm not alone at all. The lady that keeps me company is most faithful and honest."

Blinking my eyes in bewilderment I suddenly felt as if the room was emptied of all air. "What?"

"She's strict but a fair ruler. And as much as she can bring pain, she can as well bring bliss," he replied dreamily still dancing with the skeleton.

_How? When did this happen!?_

"She always keeps me company. You might even say... We are close... like married~"

 _Whaaa...! That tension!_ "To who!? When!?" _Blast him and his secrets!_

He stopped dancing and gazed into the hollows eye sockets of the skeleton he was holding as if it was the most fragile and beloved woman. "The one and only... Lady Death."

"...Huh?" I chewed in my mind on his answer. "Fancy name she has." _Maybe I should pay her a visit..._

Then he chortled and let go of the skeleton which slouched against the coffins for children. "Oh, but you know her already." Silence on my part prodded him to give a more clear answer. "She's the _being_ that takes away the life of the living creatures. Don't you see _her_ so often? She's eternal..." He grinned widely, probably being proud of his word games.

The realization was less dramatic than I thought it would be. _To think I got so worked up..._ "When that brat and his butler come here, you play with them like that too?"

"Ah, young Earl, I must admit his butler can be very entertaining too. Maybe another glass of warm tea and cookies will lift your mood, hm?"

"You know-"

Suddenly the door to the parlour burst open and a commanding voice was heard disrupting all thoughts. "Undertaker!"

We looked into the direction of the newcomer.

"Sebas-chan!"

" _Hee... hee_ , talk about the devil and he will come," the Mortician pointed out.

"I doubt that _Mr. Grell_ is able to think _straight_ while wondering about _me_ ," Sebastian jested, the frown on his forehead deepened as he now stood firmly behind his little master.

"Actually I was speaking about the young Earl," Undertaker admitted and added, "Please come in, what can I do for you today, Lord Phantomhive? May I interest you in one of my hand-made coffins? These are upholstered with the finest quality silk. I think it's the best choice for your tender, porcelain skin." He strode to the kid shamelessly.

"No thank you, I need information," stated Ciel, as he moved away.

"Ah Sebas-chan, we can now spend some time together~ Isn't it great?" I cheered, forgetting all the jokes and trotted to the demon. _How fortunate!_

The butler just sighed, standing unmoving there like a statue. A statue of unattainable perfection. So ideal that it felt wrong.

"What'cha doing today, hm? Besides babysitting him." I nodded towards Ciel.

"Queen's orders. I don't think they would interest you, Grell."

"You're right. Say, maybe you want to do something fun in the meantime?" Apart from the various things that one could label fun I also wanted to sink my chainsaw into his soft flesh.

He looked at me through his half lidded eyes. "I'm not interested."

 _Duh... no fun, just like Will._ Then something Undertaker mentioned earlier drifted through my thoughts. "Sebas-chan?"

"...Yes?"

"You will tell me if you'll ever plan to marry?"

The demon looked at me as if I grow up a second head. "What?"

"If you'll plan to marry someone. I don't want to be left behind with that kind of important news." I clutched at his arm staring into his blood red eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about and I don't have the time to play your games, Grell." He tried to shake off my hands.

"But Sebas-chan, I'm serious!"

"Let go..."

"Ngh..."I found it fun to repeatedly removing my hand from his arm when the demon tried to shake it off and immediately lace my fingers back on a different part of his limb. It reminded me of some weird chase of a cat and mouse. I could practically feel how the demon was getting more and more agitated. Finally, he caught my hand and pushed me back. _That reflex! I could be jealous about it._

Stumbling backwards, my back soon collided with something that wasn't very tall. This helped me regain my balance and all would be well until I heard seconds after a thump, a scraping sound and then a loud high-pitched yelp. That cry being so abrupt, it made my hair stand up. When I turned to see what happened I saw the child slouched against the nearest coffin. Also, the coffin’s lid had been partially moved, revealing the black clad shoes and legs of some gentleman resting inside _Gross! Did he make me sit on an occupied coffin?!_

"Sebastian! Get rid of him! GET IT OUT!" Ciel shouted, looking at me from the floor with an awful grimace.

_Who knew such a small child can accumulate so much anger? He could win some contest._

"Yes, my Lord," the demon answered immediately, bowing.

Before I knew it he grabbed my shoulders and threw me outside. I swear at some point my feet were moving above the ground. "Hey, you can't treat a lady like that!" I protested when I barely avoided smashing my face against the dirty brick wall. Fortunately my hands, clad in gloves, took all the impact. "You are doing this only because that kid ordered you, eh~?" Not giving up I winked at the other.

_Maybe I can save some romance from this situation._

"You couldn't be more wrong, Mr. Grell. Goodbye." The demon shut the door tight.

_Oh well, maybe I can't save anything._

Now standing alone I wanted to enter the parlour again, but decided against it. It wouldn't do anything good while Sebas-chan was with the brat, he would interrupt us again. _Why must it be like that? I get close to something and the next moment it's being taken away from me._ _This happens not only in my love life. I want this to change! For better...  
_

Finally after kicking a small pebble, the only thing I felt was hunger. It was well past lunch time and my stomach growled. There was no need to waste any more time here. All the good looking men were too stubborn today.

Concluding, if I wanted to make some progress on the case I had to visit the place of the crime itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _There's a subtle reference to Hogwarts castle. *Cough* Mention of a Moaning Reaper (Grell) 'haunting' the woman's bathroom on the first floor. *Cough* (Just imagine.)_   
>  _Nihil novi - (lat.) Nothing new._   
>  _Lady Death - usually death is personified in male form, while in others countries or past times perceived as female (for example: Latin America, Slavic or Norse mythology)._


	6. The Last House on the Left

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Sorry to anyone who was actually reading this that it took me so long to update. Hope it won't happen again.^^" ___

* * *

One of the small and cosy restaurants in the west side of London was my destination at first. I entered the place hiding from the cool air that ran through the streets.

To be honest, if I really wanted to bother myself, I could find a moment to prepare food at my apartment, but I was hopeless when it came to cooking. Being totally ineffective butler of Madame Red wasn't a lie. I was good at boiling water for tea, though. Despite not being a fan of tea actually. Anyway, eating outside was easier and quicker _. Seriously, if I won't come up with something to tell William, I'll really be in trouble._ Though no matter how much I scolded myself, no brilliant idea came to my mind.

After taking a seat on a plain wooden chair I ordered my meal. I haven't paid much attention to food, but definitely on my list of favourites would be meat. Not that it had to be particularly raw steak, I was very picky about my food too. But I liked meat in general very much as much as some of the sweets. I remember when I made fun of William when he brought salad as his dinner.

 _Will, are you turning into a rabbit?_ The look on his face was great. _Honestly, real men eat meat... real women... Whatever._

Looking at people passing by behind the glass window, I couldn't help but wonder how alienated I felt. Of course, it's not like it would be possible for me to fit in the mortal world. I was a Reaper after all, a divine being, no human could really comprehend that. However, I felt like this even when I was among others of my kind. That feeling, being out of place. It only appeared when there was too much time on my hands, when I couldn't get my mind busy enough, or when that melancholy mood struck back _. As if I was detached..._

The noise from glass clinking and bursts of laughter interrupted my thoughts. One of the men who were sitting in the corner was talking and gesticulating vividly to his companions. Their silhouettes were standing out from the yellow colour of the walls. This interior was so ordinary, no sign of red, beside the single rose in glass on the counter. Well, cafes were places of meetings for many people. The scene kind of reminded me of the Batignolles Group from Paris...

Meanwhile, I ate my meal and was free to go as the infamous Manor awaited me.

* * *

 

A pause in time. That's how it felt. A memorable place. Like the events that were untwining here stopped in one cold moment and never moved on. I came here in the late afternoon and only whispers among the leaves were heard as the slightly windy weather made the trees move around  in a rhythm like the waves of the sea. Wave after wave, a dark, rough sea of trees. _Hush... hush... listen to the whisper..._

The iron gate, closed of course, was no obstacle for me. A white gravel alley, that led the way behind it, was meticulously cleaned up. On each side were trimmed shrubs and various kinds of flowering trees.

I strayed from the path and went onto the neatly kept grass. Maybe it wasn't the best idea when wearing high-heels, but the softness of the green grass swallowing a bit of my every step and the proximity of nature felt calming.

From the ground here and there peered out tiny flowers with white and light-pink petals. Out of habit, I crouched and reached out for the nearest flower that would meet the requirements. It was so fragile in my hands, one wrong move and it would break like a match. My fingers, with the old precision, as if have been doing it every day, tied the flower around my middle finger on my left hand with ease.

I spread the fingers, admiring the beautiful flower ring. So subtle, innocent, though in a few hours it will start to wilt. _What a shame..._

The size of the garden was amazing. The one who took care of it had to put a lot of effort into it. Going further a construction among the trees caught my interest. As I got closer I recognized the building - the mausoleum. Small and grey, it fit well in the nature around.

The door to it was wide open as if inviting one to come inside and rest against the cold marble. Though I had no intention to do so, I only read the quote that was written above the double door and walked away. The inscription in Latin said: _Vita mutatur, non tollitur._

Then I noticed spread around various hedge sculptures, shaped like animals. One looked like a dog with his tail up. Another, not far away, was a rabbit with long and pointy ears. Walking past them made me see two more sculptures. Lions probably, judging from this distance. They were sitting under-

_Ah, finally... the destination of my trip._

The dark shape of the building towered over the cloudy sky, which gave an eerie effect. It was more or less similar to many other manors owned by noble families at that time. The walls were dark and greyish with blackness behind  windows, and the construction was spread around like a raven spreads its wings. Just looking at it made you feel like you were being watched, though it wasn't all that was responsible for the uneasy feeling I had.

The proximity of beautiful flowers and neatly trimmed shrubs, with delicate cream coloured paths winding between them, a perfect place for a walk after delicious dinner one could say. And no sound was heard. Absolutely none. Except the subtle rustle of the wind.

With this much amount of plants and trees there should be at least a few birds nesting and chirping, or buzzing of insects. I didn't hear or see anything remotely alive, except for the flora.

"How odd." And even my words, as I said them, felt like they were swallowed by a void. They resonated uncomfortably in the air.

As I judged the view around, the first association that came to my mind was a dead body. When _rigor mortis_ hits at its best and the caretaker of the funeral parlour tries to bring some fake life upon pale, cold features. Applying makeup, hiding the horrible truth beneath. He's doing the tedious work of making the body look presentable to the relatives and the world. Though, not fresh and glorious blood is rushing through the veins, it’s death instead. That's what was done here, someone tried to hide the truth, tried to bring to life something what was already dead.

What was quite obvious on the first sight was that the place didn't look abandoned, with the well-kept garden, but how would I know? In the file it only stated: _''The Gaunt Manor, several missing souls_.'' Apparently it should also be ''missing bodies'' after my chat with Undertaker. _Maybe the garden was so impressive, because it was fertilized with dead bodies, buried under? Heh, who knows_.

However, I didn't come here to seek flesh and bones, but souls. I poked my chin with my index finger. _Are the owners inside?_

I walked up the white stairs made from moorstone to an impressive black, wooden door and knocked few times with the silver rattle. No response. Well, I kind of hoped to get a look inside the infamous place and meet the one who messes up with demons. Especially with the one who ordered to frame the eyes of a beauty. _Must've been a curious guy._

Standing there and huffing I saw a silvery rope hanging in a corner of the doorframe, pulling it made the deep sound of bell that ring inside the mansion. Again, however, no one came to answer the door.

"Maybe it's abandoned after all," I said quietly to myself.

The nearest window was opaque and dirty with dried smudges of many past rains, and the curtains pulled shut behind them. Frowning, I concluded that it wouldn't be elegant to just broke through the door. Above was a marble balcony and with one jump I was on it. The sight of closed double glass doors greeted me. Bringing my face closer to the surface of glass I tried to see what was inside.

A dimly lit room with exquisite furniture came to my view. Three armchairs were on a rich knotted rug in the middle near the dark desk. Along the walls lined up bookshelves, a tall grandfather clock stood in the right corner, its pendulum wasn't moving. If someone inhabited this place, he would have made sure to wind the clock.

I squinted my eyes to see what time it showed. Now it was pointing at three o'clock, nowhere near accurate. However, it was nothing out of the ordinary, a regular house of rich, snobby mortals. _Et cetera, et cetera..._ I wondered if the owners were the ones responsible for the disturbance of peace in the Dispatch. Though humans should not be able to do something like that.

The answer was obvious then - a demon was. _Isn't it always the same?_ _When there are complications with collecting souls the demons are to blame. Surely it must be the case._ Though I probably should take a peek inside if in case something was omitted. I reached for the brass knob with green smudges and tried to turn it fruitlessly.

"Oi! Wha are ya doin' there?!"

I flinched hearing the cracking voice so out of place, so abrupt like a whip or a bolt. No way I expected any company. Looking down from the balcony I saw the reason for my disruption standing there - a man. He was wearing a dull coloured, checkered shirt and blue dungarees, thinning black hair with a lot of silver strands showed a balding head. In his hand he was gripping a shovel.

"I asked ya a question," the man repeated with a scowl on his face and squinted eyes.

 _Oh, time to put on a show then..._ "I'm sorry~ I didn't mean anything wrong," I replied with a sweet voice. After all a lady on stage should be adept with acting and there was a role to play. Leaning against the balcony and grinning, I batted my lashes like any girl would when caught red handed but pretending she's innocent. _If only my voice was less of a man..._

"I only wished to meet the ones living here. I came for a visit, but it seems they are not here." The level of my pouting was the same as if I heard that Christmas were cancelled.

The intruder snorted and eyed me suspiciously. "No. They're not here. Why d'ya climbed up there?"

 _Good question..._ Flexing my gloved fingers I replied _,_ "I wanted to see if anybody was in. The windows below are dirty and have thick curtains, can't see through." Then I stepped on the other side of balustrade, holding the rail, carefully slid down and landed easily on the floor. Thankfully it wasn't high, so it seemed believable to do so. For one, I was following the unspoken rule of not disclosing our identify to humans, unlike Will who still greeted everyone with: _"Hello, I'm a Grim Reaper and you're going to die."_ _Oh dear, that man at times knew no bounds... So thrilling... and foolish._

"Are ya from the family?"

For a short moment I weighed my options. "Yes, you might say that. I'm their cousin, a distant one... So where did they move to?"

"Hmpf, I haven't heard yer' name, son."

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's Grell Sutcliff. And you can call me Miss." Smiling I walked up to the man and extended my hand but the handshake was refused.

"I see..." He eyed me up and down, then his gaze stayed still the moment it reached my eyes. He inhaled the air through the nose as if he had a cold. "Ya- haven't had contact with 'em, eh? They moved to France half a year ago." The man took a deep breath. "They were quite... an eccentric family."

"I see- That would explain their absence."

"Aye." The man put the shovel down and picked up the watering can, it had some ugly, brownish liquid inside. "Hope ya don't harbour any hard feelings for me being so straightforward, but I'm suspicious 'bout strangers. I worked here as a gardener for 30 years. Call me Mr. Torrance."

My mind wondered if the man thought that I wasn't dangerous, given the way I looked. How wrong he was. "It's a... ' _pleasure'..._ to meet you," I replied, showing my shark, toothy grin, trying not to cringe too much. "So, an eccentrics?"

He just nodded, as if saying: _you know, aristocrats..._ "My master asked me to take care of the park. Planted all of this for his wife. I agreed of course."

"Hmm. Tell me then, I heard some awful news in the city. They say someone wasn't careful enough here recently and met a sad end?"

The face of the old man was unreadable. "Aye." A single cough escaped his throat. "Someone died." He stared ahead. "They come here for the robbery. Fucking thieves." He spat on the ground. "Got what he deserved."

"...I see."

"They're scums. Worth nothing. At least there wasn't much of a cleaning after him."

"What happened?" I asked, rising my brow.

"Don't know." He shrugged his arms. "I found him here one morning, near the front door. Good thing the floor's easy to clean from blood." He nodded at the spot next to the door and heavily inhaled the air again, then tried to meet my gaze but as soon as our eyes met, for a split of a second, he turned away.

"Oh," I acknowledged. "Was there any other unexplained deaths?"

"Just like I said, the thieves." He replied in a harsh tone, that reviled the hard truth about his age. "They think they can come here to take what they want when no one's looking. Serves 'em right." He placed the can under the nearest shrub. "Someone should do something about it... but the government of course won't bat an eye at it.

_Duh, now he will start about the politics..._

"They all sit there, high above... right with the Queen. Too great for the common folk..." He spat on the ground and plucked out some leaves who stood out from the ideal shape of the shrub.

_Again and again... Wherever you go, you hear the same... Are they not right? No. Yet, I have to be above it as I have my own responsibilities. Am I not trying to survive too?_

The man made some more commentaries under his nose as he watered the nearest flower-bed. Though his words went pass my mind as my attention was absent at that moment. Then I've decided that he's not going to say anything more useful and probably took me as a thief too as he observed me suspiciously the whole time, carefully avoiding my gaze.

 _Or maybe I was imagining things? Maybe he wasn't accustomed seeing such a dashing lady so close._ _Yeah, that must be it._

Anyway, my time here was up. "Thank you for the information, but I must be on my way." And I left as soon as I said the words. No need to dwell on uninteresting, ordinary human's lives.

I felt the man staring at me for a long time until I disappeared behind the iron gate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Vita mutatur, non tollitur -(lat.) Life is changed, not taken away. ___  
>  _The Batignolles Group- A group of artists that gathered usually at the Café Guerbois in Paris in late 19-th century for heated discussions. ___


	7. Alraune (Unholy Love)

* * *

The next day, after the usual work in the outside world, I came back to my office to fill out the forgotten paperwork. Being a Senior Reaper had its advantages, such as having some private space - namely my own cosy office, just like Will. Though mine was much more vibrant and better furnished. _Much better. No offence William, but you can't furnish for your life. Your style is too Spartan for my taste. The style I prefer and try to achieve is Victorian._

The red walls of the office welcomed me again. It was a late afternoon and I could see that the sun was slipping closer to the ground between the two buildings outside my window. The red orb was now closer and closer to disappearing completely. They say that during the last moments of sunset the sun, for a split second, flashes green. Though I've never seen it because it's kind of difficult to find the right conditions. Just like now, when the view of the star isn't clear enough to observe.

Passing by the showcase, my eyes lingered on the few books waiting to be read, but I took a seat behind the elegant writing table instead and began my work. There were so many papers for me to sign that I thought I might make a mistake writing my own name while signing them. However, the time went rather fast, as always when you're busy.

At some point I rubbed the corners of my eyes behind the glasses, carefully- so as not to ruin the make-up I tediously put on them everyday. At times I just go with a light version of it, having no strength, nor time or will, to put every cosmetic on my face every day. That also means free days from shaving. As for the face, it's harder to avoid since when I start to see dark dots poking out from my skin then I have to decide if it's the time to shave. But it's a totally different matter when it comes to legs, arms and armpits. Almost every morning it's too late and my tired mind says one thing: _tomorrow. Who's going to see anyway?_ I wear long sleeve shirt and pants. You can't do everything with a full time job, not to mention the overtime. And all is fine until I find myself in a situation, or with a person, that would be worth shaving for. Oh God! Then my mind starts to panic, and as the alarm sets off in my skull, the one thought bounces back and forth _: I haven't shaved today! How I hate those moments._

I rummaged through various papers on the dark table trying to get back to the reality. _Ah, there it is._ Pulling out a bright red folder, I took a pen in my right hand and started scribbling inside.

"Maybe it isn't as complicated as it seems," I whispered to myself, and after writing a few more lines, made a pause. "Then why did nobody write about the demon activity and put _ad acta?_ " I began to write again. "Suspecting in the next week approximately 15 more deaths from regular causes in section...," I muttered in a sluggish voice, trying to focus. _Darn, why must it be so boring?_ _Stupid reports._ Fieldwork was my preference of choice. However, even that was sometimes dull.

Remembering how eager I was to work when I was young made me feel melancholic again. _Heck, it's not like I'm old, it's just... that was before._ I thought differently about the world, everything was fresh and new, I had an idea about how life should look and oh dear... the idea was a bit different from how the life actually was.

I hid my face in my hands. Now, William added this nonsense case. _Maybe writing about demons should be enough._ Though, I hadn't sensed any while being there.

 _But did I have the time?_ "Were they so incompetent they've decided to give me a try?" I said out loud and ran a hand through my hair, then took a few strands between my fingers and looked for the split ends. "Or they're trying to pin it on someone, since it's unsolvable." _Probably the latter._ It wasn't a secret that I wasn't popular in the Dispatch. Controversial lifestyle, eccentric clothing and that reputation. But to me all of the other Reapers were the same, wearing similar suits, the short hair. _No sense of style, seriously._

Then I heard the footsteps. Someone was going through the corridor in a steady rhythm. And _oh boy~,_ my heart skipped a beat, I knew who it was. Soon there was a soft knocking on my door.

"Come in. Especially if you're a handsome brunet..."

"Very funny, Sutcliff," replied William, entering the room as always with a stern look on his face.

"I just kneeew it was you~," was my sheepish answer.

"How so?"

Shrugging my arms I replied, "No one else bothers to come here."

"And you're probably wondering why?"

"Not exactly."

"You still haven't repainted the room," he added with contempt, looking around.

"Oh, but I've considered it, really!" I got up and spread my arms. "I wanted to repaint it with the blood of my enemies~!" The brightest smile followed my animated response. _Though I had to drop that idea. Once the blood dries it just looks bad. It would be various shades of brown. Some blood comes with oxygen and is light red, and some comes without and then it's dark, but all of it turns to brown unfortunately._ I've also contemplated adding the skulls of the demons I slashed over the years on the walls. _When you go to some mortal's mansion what do you see? Trophies! Deers, wolves, moose, multitudes of these._ I still consider the idea. _If I had a house and Sebastian's head on the mantle..._

"Have you finished at least part of your job?" William crossed his hands over his chest.

Blinking, I replied trying not to blush, "Almost."

"You know you could do better if you'd paid attention to your work," he huffed.

"Ah, Will. I can't concentrate on something that has no interest for me."

"What about the other thing I asked you to do?" He inquired, after correcting his glasses.

"I think it was a demon," was my nonchalant response.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, it must be. Isn't it?" _Gosh, why do you bother me with this? Disappearing souls, what else could it be?_

"And it didn't cross your mind to do something about it?"

"Do what? He wasn't there."

William slammed his Death Scythe on the table making me jump. "I asked you to solve this! How dense you can be?"

"But Will, you haven't told me to find that demon." I sat back anxiously, not daring to take my eyes off of his Scythe. _You don't know when the cobra attacks._

"I told you to solve it! That also means get rid of it."

"But how am I going to do that? I bet he won't show up if I am standing there?" I risked to look at his face for a moment. His hand was venturing to the glasses again. _Oh, Will you're too nervous for your own sake... and for my own too._

"It's your problem. You do seem to attract the vermins however, use it to your advantage."

"Uh-huh, I wish they would find me attractive too."

"What did you say?"

"...Nothing."

"Finish what you're doing, we have to go."

"Go? Where? Did you accept my offer about supper?" I couldn't help but wink at him.

William rolled his eyes. "No, Sutcliff. Have you forgotten about the apprenticeship program?"

"-Oh... But I'm tired~"

"Do not make me yell at you again. The lecture starts in 15 minutes. Be there." With that he left.

Just now I realized that I've finally let out the air subconsciously held in my lungs. _Gosh! Why does that man is make me so tense!_ Positioning my head on the palm of my left hand I allowed a tired sigh to leave my lips. _Yeah, I forgot about the classes._ We had them twice a week since last month, today was going to be the last one. Finally.

They were organized in the evenings after working hours. _Overtime and evening classes, how fun life._ The higher ups in Dispatch Management decided that as a Senior Reaper with years of experience I, and the others, should be assigned a subordinate. Precisely one that freshly finished the Academy. Our responsibility was to train the rookie and make sure he did the job properly. Also, it included another stream of reports to fill. I was going to be a mentor for some kiddo that had no idea what the real life of a Reaper looks like.

"Finally." Yawning I put the pen on the table. The weekly summary and previous reports were finished. Stretching up I took a glance at the clock on the wall. Of course it wasn't working. Its pendulum was hanging still and the pointers stopped at twenty till ten. _Nice. When will I go to the watchmaker to repair it?_ In that case, I reached out for my small pocket one and saw that the 15 minutes had already passed. _Shit._ Grabbing the red notepad with white skull on it and the red folder with documents inside, I made my way, in a hurry, to the first floor of the Academy building.

Softly knocking on the door I entered the classroom. After quietly muttering, "Sorry", I spotted an empty seat next to William in the last row and slid into it.

"You are late," William whispered.

"I'm fashionably late," I whispered back, smiling.

He fixed his glasses, sighing and trying to focus on what was being said in the room.

After a few seconds I felt like I couldn't sit so quiet next to him. "Will," I whispered.

To no avail.

So I tried again. "Willu~"

Still he chose to ignore me, though I saw his nose wrinkle a bit. It looked quite funny.

"William T. Spears." Now I pinched him on the arm lightly. His suit was as rough as his character.

William's head turned towards me and an exasperated, "What?" left his thin lips.

 _Good, he reacted before I tried calling him a cookie, pancake or biscuit or thousands other random words that would come to my mind just to get his attention._ "I have your reports."

"Fine, just give me it."

Picking up the red folder with said papers inside, I put it in front of my face just below the eyes and said, "Aaand I have the summary!" For a better effect, I batted my lashes flirtatiously.

William just took the folder from my hands and placed it on his side of the desk without opening it. Then noted out some things in his open notebook, focusing on the lecture again.

 _That's all? Well, that was short..._ Feeling not satisfied I grumbled, "Why must I be here, I know everything necessary."

Touching his glasses he replied, "Because it's written in "The Rules & Regulations of a Shinigami Society". You're bound to obligate it. Should I recite you what paragraphs you'd break?"

If not for the tone of his voice I would have thought that it was an automated reply from a machine. The theme and monotony of the syllables would fit it perfectly. I shook my head, saying _'no'_. If he started to recite every codex and law I would just jump out the window.

Someone in the front cleared their throat and said, "Am I interrupting you?"

I looked up, eyeing me directly was a petite brunette showing her displeasure. Currently playing the teacher.

"No, honey. Do go on," I answered, showing a shark grin.

Snickers went through the classroom, but the woman just rolled her eyes. "As I was saying, tomorrow you will meet your subordinate..."

"What a shame it can't be a lover," I muttered.

"Sutcliff!" William whispered admonitory. "Be quiet."

The instructive talk was boring to death so I decided to let my eyes wander around the room. The Academy was one of the new buildings. It'd had a complete renovation. White walls covered with optic posters. Everything was so plain. That girl from General Affairs on the front was playing a teacher for us and now was going on about finding mutual respect. Good thing we sat in the last row. I pulled out a folded newspaper from my notebook and a little candy from the pocket of my red coat. She won't be able to see it immediately.

"What are you doing?" William looked at me with disdain.

"M' hungry." I mumbled swallowing the candy. "But if you want I can do something more naughty than this." _You can count on various offers._

"Honestly though..." William shook his head, then he again scribbled something on paper.

Shrugging my arms I ate another candy, there was nothing interesting in the newspaper though. As for why we sat in the last row, my supervisor wanted to have a good look at the others to make sure they paid attention. Though it didn't stop me from ignoring the teacher. Also he would note out some things that should be discussed with someone from General Affairs. Namely, effectiveness and substantiveness of the whole qualifications course. Meaning, William wasn't always there, but when he was it was more fun.

Though, if he wasn't there I would've organized my entertainment differently. Otherwise I would not survive the dreadful classes. You don't have to listen to everything to pass the tests. There's no point in torturing yourself. Usually I would doodle or draw seriously, also doodle on the desk - _for future generations!,_ read books and newspapers, eat, chat or at least tried to, and finally rolling up my red coat under my head I was plainly napping. Still I quite often got A's and this time wasn't going to be any different.

"Please pass along these forms. I want you to write something about yourselves. It will help with assigning your partners," the girl announced.

Well, me being me, I wrote how extraordinary I was.

At last the class ended and I was alone in my small flat again because of my failure to persuade William to eat late supper with me. So after grabbing something to eat, I went to bed. Feeling tired, I put my favorite red, frilly nightgown on and slipped under the covers. The bedclothes, for now, were in various shades of violet and pink stripes. On one side of the pillow laid a little ragdoll, it lacked clothing and was sewn by me. Its black eyes were made from buttons which stared emptily at the ceiling. Though more than often I saw a silent understanding in them.

"Goodnight Sebastian," I said, kissing the doll and patting its woolen hair. "Goodnight Will," I said to the other similar doll, kissing it too and putting it on the other side of my pillow. _They wouldn't like laying next to each other now, would they?_ Then I fell asleep. To drift in vivid dreams full of adventures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ad acta (lat.) - to put something to the files or, figuratively, to close the matter on a topic._


	8. The Covenant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Here Ronnie gets his first appearance in the story. I know, it took some time, but I just love analysing Grell's character ❤_

* * *

Slowly, my eyes got accustomed to the bright light. Blue sky peeked through the wide window on the left of my bedroom. _Time to wake up probably_.

Stretching, my hand ventured behind my head where it slid over the doe's hide that hung on the wall exactly above the head of my bed. Gliding along its fur felt nice and soft with only a bit of roughness. Another hide, of a fallow deer, was placed on the bed's frame. I took my red glasses from the dresser and then looked at the clock, it read 10 a.m. I put them back, as my eyes closed again because of the heaviness of my lids. Getting up was hard, I liked to stay in bed as long as possible...

_Wait- What?! Shit! The meeting!_ My eyes flew open immediately and focused on the room before me with such a clarity, that for a moment one might wonder: _what_ _do you need glasses for, Grell?_

Nevertheless, I hastily placed them back again on my face, fighting the beaded chain. When I tried to put the cold beading behind my neck and under my hair it resisted my effort. _Why did I have to add the chain to these stupid glasses?!_ I huffed tugging at it. _Because you thought it would make them more elegant, feminine, plus they won't drop on the floor during a fight... and the skulls,_ my mind replied indifferently. _...Right_. I tossed the covers, jumping out from the bed. _Why did I forget to set up the alarm clock!? I'm going to be so screwed._

"Why didn't any of you wake up?!" I cried to the dolls, still laying on the pillows. Though, they did they seem to change a bit their positions since the last night, as I remembered.

However, none of them seemed to melt under my accusing gaze. Sebastian Doll was lying flat on its back with its head turned in my direction. The eyes reflected only the flicks of light from the window and the mouth was a straight, thin black line with cross stitches as always. Yet, somehow it looked as if amused by my frustration.

"Don't you dare to mock me!" I yelled, while pointing finger at it for an emphasis.

It seemed indifferent though. Similarly, William Doll was unfazed completely, laying on its side, head turned away from me. _Ignoring_.

"Typical," I snapped.

_It's like they had a personality transplant after whom I made them. Terrifying? Or thrilling? You don't have the time for this nonsense. GO!_

After a loud grunt that escaped my lips I dashed to the living room where my clothes were left last night. _No time for breakfast._ I grabbed a glass of water for my dry throat and hastily put the clothes on. Then, tried to quickly brush my tangled hair. _Ah, this is always the longest part._ Next, I sat in front of the dressing table and started to put my make-up on. But before that I sprayed some rosy perfume behind my ears. Then, hurriedly I took out all the necessary products from the vanity case. _A lady must look presentable at all times, even if it means to be late_.

And today was one of the occasions when I had to look perfect. They were going to introduce me to my own apprentice. _First good impressions are the most important!_ I couldn't allow others to say: _look mate, he got a mentor that couldn't even care to put a proper make-up on on their first meeting!_

My hand worked swiftly, first, around the primer, then the foundation. _Damn it. Who am I kidding? They would probably babble exactly the other way around!_ _Why did he get a mentor who put's make-up on?_ I snorted at the thought. The mirror showed my lunatically amused face. "Hah, who cares!?"

Actually, for years my attitude was like: _who cares~?_ And I can't allow myself to go out or meet anybody while not wearing at least the light version of my make-up. _Never. I have to- overcompensate for the lack of... natural beauty._ To chase out the rest of the thoughts from my head I put a bit of concealer under the eyes and the lipstick. Though at times I wonder why I bother. So often it wipes off and the lipstick is rarely visible. Finally, time for the false eyelashes _. Agh! In hurry I put too much glue._

"Damn it, if I close my eyes now, I won't be able to open them and it will look like I'm sleeping anyway!"

A rush to the bathroom, trying hard not to blink, became my only solution. After fixing the problem and taking care of the more prosaic needs that humans must take care of as well. _Demons have easier lives in some ways._ I glanced again in the mirror just to be sure everything was all right.

The skin was pure, white - fortunately not deathly white like Undertaker's, and smooth. The eyes immediately caught attention, appearing bigger with the black outlines, shadow on the lids, and thick long, lashes; the lips were red and luscious so far. _Okay, you can go._

I put the red coat on and eventually tried to tie the shoes. However, when I was ridiculously hopping on one leg trying to fight the stubborn shoelace, gravity flung me to the side. Fortunately, I managed to regain my balance, but nearly knocked off the beautiful oil lamp that stood on the credenza. _Woah, that was close_. That reminded me of how much my furniture is stuffed with all kinds of pretty bric-à-brac. Finally, I was able to lock the door and dart to the Academy building.

When I appeared in the main hall obviously everyone was already there. Some whispered between each other as I felt their gaze upon me as though it were the heat of the midday sun.

"I'm sorry, I overslept," was my explanation, scratching the back of my head as I tried to look remorseful. Which, in fact, I was not.

"Of course. It is possible when one has such an exciting nightlife," the teacher-girl said, wrinkling her nose.

I blinked. "Eh?" _Was she talking to me?_ I tried to remember when was the last time I had an exciting night.

But apparently, she didn't hear my confused answer as she already continued with reading the list.

_Will is going to be mad again..._ _Good thing he isn't here now. Why did I have to be late today?_ Though actually he never liked when anyone was late.

Around, fellow Reapers greeted their younger coworkers. They tried to be polite, engaging in mindless small talk. Forced smiles accompanied eyes that showed no emotions _. Falsehood, theatre with poorly chosen actors._

_Who knows if the rookie will be an obstacle or a nice company?_ I could settle for a friend, there was no need to flirt with everyone. Because not everyone matched up my standards. _Who knows what might happen later?_ Although, this was my plan for William. _But we're talking about the kid here! So no..._ I wanted to date someone on my level of experience. Someone who saw how difficult life can be, someone who would understand how I'm feeling, someone...

"Grell Sutcliff, Ronald Knox will be working with you," she announced to the crowd and the white walls of the Academy.

As soon as the words were left hanging in the air, a young boy came out from the group. Well, came out not quite voluntary. He was pushed out by his peers, judging from the abrupt steps and lack of coordination, the snickers, which immediately rose up as soon as our names were spoken, and the hands that patted his back. Looking perplexed, his hand ventured to fix the blond hair styled in a cowlick, the smile he wore did not reach the eyes.

"H-Hello Senior Sutcliff, nice to meet you," he said politely and extended his hand.

_Now, now. Did they listen to the part where I confessed about preferring the handsome men as partners? They've surely took this into consideration~_

"Kya! What a cute cookie I got! Nice to meet you too, Ronnie darling," I shook his hand wholeheartedly, grinning widely in response.

_He's pleasant to the eyes with the young boyish look. Was that a blush~? Maybe the partnership won't be such a bad idea. If not for the age difference... Oh, shush!_ Although, I tried to remember if I saw him earlier in the lunch room with the other scallywags.

After a few moments, the boy scratched the back of his neck, still smiling awkwardly, looking as if he was unsure of what to say. I could help him with that. _Well, don't you see my make up!? I worked really hard on it today despite being out to time! Compliment me~!_ _Compliment me~!_ Though despite my internal screaming the boy said nothing further. I huffed. _Are you blind?...Uh, not quite a gentleman are you?_ He was just eyeing me with his big, glossy eyes, still fresh and not accustomed to the difficulties of a Shinigami's life, from behind even bigger black frames of his glasses, like I was some exotic creature.

I tried hard to look polite, no need to scare the rookie so early. Though there was a potential to have fun later. _"But as you know, it's strictly forbidden to abuse your fellow colleague,"_ the teacher-girl's voice rang in my head as if on call _. He is like a hopeless bee in a spider's web_ , my mind supplied its own reply.

"Well, our deathly companionship begins now~" I beamed, feeling as if it was one of the more important moments.

Ronald slowly nodded with his head as his gaze dropped to my lips while I spoke, an undefinable emotion flickered in his eyes.

"Please sign here," the brunette teacher said, nudging me to the side with a few pages.

_Oh great, more forms._ I turned to look at the them. _Darn, so much bureaucracy, one could've drowned in it._

Suddenly from the crowd, besides the regular chit chat, rose a whisper, "Hey- hey Knoxie."

Whether he reacted or not the whispers followed while I was busy with the documents.

"Nice partner you got, chap."

The words were coming to me from far away as I focused on the one word. The one word I heard and saw lately very often, even now one the document in front of me. _Partners._ And I wasn't anymore among the Academy walls, but on the dark London's alley... with her.

_("Are we now partners in crime, Grell?" she asked, her eyes bright with excitement.)_

_("We're like two peas in a pod, Madam.")_

"Shhh... I told you he's a cross dresser."

_("You have glorious dresses, Madam. And that coat, may I try it on?")_

"-going to have one hell of a ride, mate."

_("I have no interest in the ordinary...")_

"Lock the door. Don't let him touch-"

_("Aren't you afraid of touching me?" I asked while I held her warm hands.)_

_("No. There's nothing to be afraid of," she replied, looking into my eyes.)_

"Shut up!"

Ronald's snap made me come back to reality. I saw that he swatted some hand from the crowd and sighed tiredly.

I raised my brow at it, feeling out of place from the sudden rush of memories, but returned the signed papers, and motioned the boy to come with me, but he just stayed still in place. The smile he wore looked like someone had glued it onto his face and appeared as if was about to fall apart any second. Like an ice cone in the middle of a summer day.

"Are you going? Better not keep the lady waiting."

The words were like a switch to him as he snapped out of the trance and followed me. Soon we were walking through the narrow Dispatch corridors. Though moving in such a strained and silent manner wasn't entertaining at all, I've also noticed he kept some distance from me.

"Nice weather, isn't it?"

I looked at Ronald curiously. "Yes, it is." _Honestly, a weather talk?_

We entered my small office.

"Make yourself comfortable."

"Thanks," replied Ronald, looking around.

I watched as the boy was taking in the surroundings. At first glance he must've realized, that red was the favourite colour of his Senior. _Is he going to admire the unique style or will he be irritated by it?_ His eyes ventured from the deep brown shelves, the cabinet - now closed, showcase, coffee table with bouquet of roses and lycoris, black leather sofa with red plush pillows, to the writing table.

"Nice place," he concluded, rocking on the ball of his feet and nodding his head.

"Thank you, dear. I was trying to bring some life and colour into this boring place."

"Yes, I can see that. I've never seen so much red colour in one place," he grinned.

I chuckled. _The red walls made an impression I see._ "I'm quite proud with the outcome."

"It's very lively. I must say, the other offices I've seen were rather monotonous and dull. Yours definitely stands out, Senpai. I like it."

_That kid appears to have a good taste after all._ Wide smile accompanied my thoughts _. Oh, there he does this again._ His gaze again ventured to my mouth. _Does my teeth bother him this much?_ I grinned harder at the thought.

He noticed I stared at him and quickly turned to look at the wall. "Nice paintings. This one reminds me of the ones in the main hall, but the rest is... Uh, crazier? You like art, Senior?"

"Of course! _Evviva l'arte~"_ I walked up to him and we looked at the first painting he mentioned. "You should know, that this one is _Ophelia_ by John Everett Millais. But it's far from having any similarity with the others in the main hall. If you knew anything about art, you would know why. Long story short, when _Opheli_ a was first publicly exhibited at the Royal Academy in London in 1852, it was not universally acclaimed."

"So, this is an original?"

"Yes, and I think it will gain popularity soon, it beautifully shows the last moments of Ophelia's poetic death~ The brat has a copy." I snickered.

"What?"

"Never mind. You know that I played as an Ophelia in a theatre play with Sebas-chan? But Willu came and spoiled all the fun," I pouted at the memory.

Ronald only nodded and muttered, "Uhum."

I waved my hand and moved to the other side, gesturing to the three smaller pictures. "These are reproductions of the impressionist paintings I admire. Here is _Wild Poppies, near Argenteuil_ by Claude Monet, his works marked new beginning in the history of art. At first rejected now impressionism is quite popular."

"Uh-huh, nice, very nice."

"Next is _Orchard in Spring_ by Alfred Sisley." I enthusiastically waved at the hanging painting. "And here you have _Gray Weather, La Grande Jatte_ by Georges Seurat. This one is actually a pointillism, but he created it being heavily inspired by impressionism. I will spare you the details though, because you look bored enough already."

"No, Senpai. I'm not, this is fascinating."

"You are a polite kid, that's what they taught you, no? I like to know what these folks are painting. However, I heard Seurat doesn't have much time left, what a pity. Never mind, look here, this is something you should have no problem with understanding." I led him to the painting that hung above the window. Its localization - being on the wall opposite of the door - made it clearly visible at my back when I was sitting behind my writing table. "This is _The Abbey in the Oakwood_ by Caspar David Friedrich."

"Oh, yeah, it captures attention... and it's very sad."

"Oh no, it's not sad at all, because this is what we are bringing." I took him by the arm and with other hand pointed at the painting. "See? It's a procession, they bear a coffin, and here graves yawn out of the snow in the foreground."

"Um..."

I trailed delicately two of my fingers up his arm. "You see, Ronnie..." I trailed them up to his shoulder. "This painting depicts... _Death_ ~" I whispered into his ear.

The boy shivered and swallowed audibly. "Really? Um, yeah, it looks like it."

I laughed and let go of his arm, to take a seat behind the writing table, to sort out the chaotic papers. It looked like a mess. Not the best example of how to organize your office. After a while Ronald shuffled his feet and walked past me in silence.

"Do you know what you will be doing for next... hmm, few decades at least?" I asked, not looking up.

"I am- supposed to collect souls," he answered cautiously.

"Indeed, but do you know what it really means?"

He blinked, looking baffled.

"They say _post mortem est nulla voluptas_ , but I hope you will help me prove they are wrong~"

He smiled, looking as if he was relieved from heavy burden. "Senpai, I've never believed that one can't enjoy themselves, especially while having so much time on their hands."

_He looks better when he smiles, though._ Now he was looking at the pin board. _This is going to be fun_.

"Cool photos. I see Mr. Spears, he won't smile even when they take a picture of him?"

"Nah, Will is just like that. He's probably too shy," I exclaimed with a huge grin plastered on my face.

Ronald snorted, then ran a hand through his hair. "And who's on that one with you, Senpai?"

"Ah, that's Sebas-chan~"

"He looks as serious as Mr. Spears, who is he?"

"I'll tell you about him later," I replied, winking.

"Well, I see you like taking pictures, the ones of yourself too."

"Yes, I have quite a collection." I stood up. "Now, won't you agree that our first day needs to be recorded?"

"Huh? Is that a camera?"

"Of course and I'm going to pin another sweet picture on my pin board," I chatted, walking to him. "Okay, strike some dashing pose, darling!" I chimed, embracing Ronald. "And say- _Death_ ~!"

A flash of light blinded us for a second and it was done. Later the photo went to the pin board. It showed Ronald smiling, a bit of a surprised smile, at me as I did my trademark pose. Definitely it was one of the happier pictures hanging there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Evviva l'arte!(Italian) - Long live the art!  
>  Post mortem est nulla voluptas (Latin) - After death no pleasure remains._


	9. The Evil Within

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _First: So sorry for the delay. In the meantime me and my proofreader drifted apart and I'm posting this chapter after trying my best, but also I'm sorry for any mistakes I might've made, English is not my native language._   
>  _Second: Many thanks to those who favourited and followed this story and to those who still want to read it._
> 
> _-In the first half of this chapter Grell recalls the time spent with Madam Red. It's a bit of a reoccurring theme since the story takes place after the Jack the Ripper Arc and Grell will unconsciously seek parallels/differences between Madam and Ronald.-_

* * *

The next day confirmed my beliefs that a part of my life changed. A change that I wasn't prepared for at all. _Yeah, yeah Will, you can brag all you want about the evening classes, a qualification course_. But let's be honest, I was so used to do my job alone all these years, that I felt it was some kind of intrusion into my daily routine.

Though it's not like I didn't experience a companionship before. The most intense and close came from the unfulfilling person - Madam Red. But that was in a different circumstances. As I think about it, I've always referred to her as Madam and never Angelina. _We were close enough to call each other by the first name and she did that, but me?_ _Never_. I've separated Madam Red and Angelina Dalles in my mind so clearly that it was terrifying. Now I see it.

Angelina was an ordinary woman, one of the thousands of other souls I've collected over the years. Like Charon I've helped them to cross the river Styx. Out of duty, out of must. _Why should I bother to know them more if I already knew what they were like?_ Angelina would be afraid to walk home alone late at night and wouldn't be able to defend herself from a man. Angelina would tell the others that women and young girls should act and dress like a ladies. So later she chastened me with the words _, "Silly Grell, you can't go to the party with us dressed as a lady. Ciel is a child, but you have a body of a man and who would be my butler then?"_ Angelina wanted to bake cookies for Ciel, even if the cook could do it. Angelina would be visiting Ciel, sometimes with me, sometimes without, because she cared about the boy as if he was her own. Which she didn't dare admit to my face and probably to even herself. In fact, she hardly paid attention to me when she was with that brat. I realized that I've started to become invisible to her the more time she spent around him. Angelina had a soft spot in her heart filled with melancholy and followed the social etiquette. Angelina was someone I despised.

Madam, on the other side, was anything that I associated with the colour red: bravery, impulsiveness, confidence, boldness, strength, readiness to break any rule. Madam was a doctor, as skilled as any other man in her field, sometimes even more. Madam could be as ruthless and cold as William, such a strong character. She would explain all the anatomy curiosities to me in a calm manner just over the still living body of her next victim. Organs, arteries, intestines... _Uterus_.

_("Why are you cutting it out of her?")_

_("It's my trademark! You saw how much effort it took to cut it out so perfectly. It's important. Yes, that's all they have. And we are taking it! PUNISHING THEM!")_

However, the Madam's character was also evolving, changing. Over time she was falling more and more into her odd mood. It was like falling into a deep, black well, one that has a long way back. One that's shredded with slimy stones, full of stale air and water filled with little, rotting animals. At that time her creepy laughter would echo on the empty streets or among the dirty walls in the East End. The eyes empty, glistening, only proved she was further and further away from any sanity. The profanities she spat into the face of her victims would make cringe and put to shame any man.

_("What are you waiting for?!")_

_(I squashed the heart, ripped out of one of the whores, in my hand and it burst out full of fresh blood. Myriads of droplets sprinkled the air. It looked as if someone popped a balloon filled with red water. Blood was everywhere. Madam was ecstatic, her laughter for a while subdued due to an odd heavy breathing, like she run a mile without a stop, her eyeballs rolled up to show only whites. But then she came back into her semi-normal state and was laughing like a child that got a Christmas present, clapping with her hands. Somehow her merriness influenced me too, and I started to laugh along with her. The limp bits of the heart still hung from my gloved hand as I tried to shake them off, they simply wouldn't fall, being sticky like a glue, it made me chuckle even more._ )

With her it felt like a sharing some internal joke, one that only a best friend can understand. Then and many times later I felt a sense of belonging. It didn't differ from inviting me to play poker, taste a new cake she bought or ordered to do or check out a new collection of dresses from Paris. An activity that linked us more, the nights spent in a hurry, filled with blood and the muffled screams of the women she hunted. Even if I wanted to back out I couldn't. And to tell the truth, I didn't want to. Though at times her mood put me into consternation.

_("See? She doesn't have enough. What a dirty slut!" She slapped the girl that was laying on the floor, tied up.)_

_(The victim only slightly whimpered, being muffled by the cloth that concealed her mouth. Blue eyes immediately watered, leaking a few tears as a red, stinging mark of the Madam's hand showed on the deathly white cheek.)_

_("You know what? We should be merciful this time. She looks like she didn't live through many springs yet, she can enjoy her last moment.")_

_(I just nodded, not taking my eyes off of the young, blue-eyed girl. I've waited for Madam to start the play and hardly focused on what she said.)_

At times, when she was in her special mood, she spat out some gibberish or nonsense, silly rhymes like _"Jack and Jill went over the hill..."_ I learned to filter it out and focus on the actions. However, this time she had a specific thing in mind.

_("Come on, give her some pleasure!" She tugged at my arm.)_

_(When I didn't react the way she wanted, she pulled me stronger.)_

_("Are you a man or not?!")_

_(Before I knew I was dragged and landed on the poor girl. Her eyes focused on mine, widened with sudden realization. The body so feeble with soft, milky skin that contrasted highly with delicate trails of blood marking the ways of the Madam's knife. The preparations she made. The girl's round breasts lifted up and down with every heavy breath she took because of my weight on her.)_

_(Madam patted my back and whispered, "Just a quick one... she craves it~")_

_(My hand slipped on the undressed girl's stomach, and I felt, despite the coldness of the skin and air around, that she was warm inside. Though when I glanced at Madam, I saw something, an existence in her eyes, I wanted to ignore later on, no matter the evidence. Her red irises changed the look when she was in her manic state, I knew how they looked when she was sad, overwhelmed by melancholy, or when she was genuinely happy. I knew it all. Or so I thought. The way she was watching me now, "the thing" I saw in her eyes, was nothing I saw before. It looked as something ugly and disgusting came out of the sewer of her mind and crawled to the surface to enjoy a brief show. Intelligent, calculating, appealing to the basic desires of a beast. And that "thing" was just in front of my face, observing, her hot breath fogged my glasses as our noses were almost touching. It felt like ages but she didn't blink. The twisted smile was like saying without words: Go on, I know you want it too. Do it the way and as long as you desire, every time. Every, every, every...)_

_("No!" I screamed in her face with disgust and with the hand closest to her I pushed her back, sliding off the girl's body in the process.)_

_(Madam landed almost under the opposite wall, I had no idea how much strength I used. After all, a human body is no comparison to a Shinigami's. A leaf in a wind.)_

_("Fuck off," I growled. "I'm not like her.")_

_(For a moment Madam looked like she had no idea what happened, but soon started to giggle. Even pointed at me with her finger and then doubled over with a muffled laughter. If this was supposed to be one of the internal jokes then I didn't get it.)_

_("The thing" in her eyes appeared again that evening only once when she cut deeply the throat of the girl, the blade bounced on the vertebra under the tissues, to start the real work.)_

_(She put one of the surgical tools in my hand and said, "Well then, you can at least learn something new, to try out and play with the friends from your world later on.")_

_(The look of her red irises was predatory and my work with the scalpel messy.)_

Another time I remember, it was dead of night, I slept in one of the guest bedrooms in the Madam's Manor. The evening before it we had much fun, doing things that two close female friends, sisters, can do, the merry atmosphere was propped up by enough amount of good wine. Though Madam was too excited at times.

_(I woke up with her standing above me, still in the dress from the evening, with a knife in her hand. The pale moonlight slithered through the strands of her hair, some being out of place, unmoving features and reflected in the eyes that were alive with something that came out of that depth again.)_

_(She must've realized I wasn't sleeping anymore because she started to speak, though with difficulty, "Grell... M' hungry.")_

_(Ugh, I wasn't content with being woken up so late, I wanted to sleep goddamnit! "Go, get a sandwich then!" I barked and snuggled my pillow again.)_

_(The words flowed in the air again with the same difficulty, "I... can't. We have to go. Punish them.")_

_(My eyes flew open, she was still staring at me, not blinking. That "thing" in the eyes was still there and I knew it wouldn't go away until it'll be satisfied. Something told me if it won't be blood and gore from someone else, it'll get it from me. Like a drug addict. The little finger of the hand that held the blade was moving in some odd tick. For some time already, I never left my scythe unattended around her.)_

_(When we were done with her night escapade, and I was sure as hell I wouldn't go back to sleep, she didn't run in a hurry after finishing with the body as she used to. Instead, she packed some of the cut out organs to the medical bag she took from home.)_

_("What are you doing?")_

_("You'll see," she replied with an eerie smile.)_

Later I learned that she sent a letter to the chairman of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee along with half of a preserved human kidney. The letter started with words: _From hell_.*

A place she was in since the deaths of her husband and the Phantomhives. Her own personal hell in mind, one, that I was made a part of. Yet, I was never meant to be her Virgil and she a Dante, to follow through the nine circles of Inferno together.*

In the letter was stated that the other half of the kidney was eaten. When I asked her about it, she fended off it as a joke and that she doesn't quite remember. I wanted to believe it was the truth. I really did, despite what I saw in her eyes.

She was a sinking ship, a lantern in the dark that attracted lonely moths. I almost didn't burn along with her flame.

_Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde._ _The curse of humanity depends on the fact that two contrary natures are together forever united; that in the depths of the tormented conscience must roll tragic, endless battles._

Though I was sure that my cooperation with young Ronald won't be anything like that. Probably for the better. That kind of relationship which leave a mark in your mind happens very rarely. As the time goes the more dreadful, hurting parts are washed away and sometimes a thing, a scent or an object, can bring out a memory that was forgotten. As if some meticulous cleaner forgot to throw out that little paper crumble and you stumble upon it. You start to cherish the mementos that were left, linking it to some idea you thought everyone believed. The things become symbolic.

I wrapped the red coat around me closely as the wind whispered on the alley in front of the Dispatch building. Outside, in the late afternoon, waiting for Ronald to show up, I looked at the sky, admiring its beauty. It had a unique color, the puffy clouds were roseate with a slight tint of green, their pastel colors were completed with azure behind, near the horizon changing to grey. The depth of it was incredible, I felt so small compared to the immense firmament.

"Sorry I'm late, Senpai."

I glanced at Ronald who just came through the double door. He didn't seem as someone who is concerned about being late. The carefully styled hair, ironed shirt and polished white shoes, no sign of quickened breathing. It was sure he didn't come running here.

"Something hold you back? You know it's not polite to keep a lady waiting," I asked casually.

Ronald shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. "What are we going to do today, Senpai?"

"Well, I thought I should see how good you are with wielding your scythe."

"Um- to be honest, I'm not the best at fighting... heh. Maybe we could do something else?"

"You managed to finish the Academy, surely it can't be that bad, or are you afraid of getting dirty? Come with me."

We went behind the main building. Its shadow covered whole rectangular 160 yards long and 100 yards wide field, free from any grass, only deep brown ground. It was often used for training... or a midnight party. Although the training hall had a full obstacle course, this was enough. No one would bother us.

"Good. Where' your Death Scythe?"

The blond summoned his weapon - the lawnmower.

"Interesting... You modified it?"

"Yes, also I know one girl in the General Affairs, so I didn't have a problem with registering it." The boy grinned proudly.

I couldn't help but chuckle. _What a smart kid. He used his charm to get what he wanted._ Yet now, I was only beginning to see why they assigned Ronald to me.

"You know, not many actually can appreciate the effectiveness of involving mechanics into the reaping of souls."

"Yeah, this scythe was made to be useful and nothing less. Plus, I don't have to walk by foot, it gets me almost anywhere I want to."

I nodded. "Nice. Now, we will have a small duel. Get ready." Summoning my chainsaw, I shouted, "Go!"

Both weapons roared to life. Ronald hopped onto his lawnmower to move and get some distance. Without prolonging I attacked first. A bright firework of sparks accompanied clashing of our scythes, confirming the old rule that a scythe can't cut through another one. We backed out and I dashed forward, swinging the chainsaw at the boy's side who barely managed to duck.

Actually, I didn't want to appear demanding, but I couldn't make this fight too easy. He needs to get used to his new weapon fast. To the noise it makes, to its limitations and advantages. Only this skill will save his life later on, not a good mark on an ethics test.

Next attack started Ronald, he went in my direction, though missing completely, turned mid-air and rode on his lawnmower landing near me. Obviously I was quick enough to avoid the collision.

"That was a good one, Ronnie."

The boy smiled and run straight at me again, but I jumped on top of Ronald's scythe and hit him in the back with a handle of my weapon. The blond doubled over and fell to the ground with a cloud of dust, the lawnmower went silent a few feet away.

"But you have to be more watchful."

"Yeah, I - s'ppose so," Ronald coughed, brushing dirt from his suit as he got up. "You're a good fighter, Senpai. I see you too have a modified scythe."

"Yes, I've spend a lot of time on that baby. There is no better sound that this piece of art coming to life~" I affectionately patted my chainsaw. "You know, everyone dies, so it's the style that counts in collecting souls."

Ronald smiled slightly. "If I may know, what grade you had from practical skills, Senpai?"

"Hmm, I don't want to appear as overconfident, but I had triple A's."

His eyes went wide. "Holy shit! Seriously?"

"Why would I lie, sweetie? In fact, you can go ask Will, he will confirm."

"No, I believe you. But really, a triple A's, no one in my year had that grade. I even doubt our professor could have one."

I smiled mischievously. "You know, I could tell you more, but promise you won't tell anyone."

"Sure, my lips are sealed." The boy made a gesture of zipping his mouth.

I chuckled. "Well, William only had B."

"No way!"

"But it's true!" I giggled.

"That is incredible, Senpai. I'm glad of having you as my mentor. I bet I will learn a lot under you." A moment after his eyes went wide. "That's not what I meant."

I raised my brows. "No, no, do continue," I replied purposely in a sweet voice, index finger rubbing my chin.

"Sorry, I just talk too fast sometimes, he he. I meant under your care- ...I, no... Uh." He looked flustered and rubbed the back of his head.

"Aw, don't be shy." I felt I couldn't stop now. This was too easy. "Actually, I think it's kinda cute to have a crush on your mentor."

"No! Uhm- That was just a slip of the tongue. Nothing more." His eyes were getting wider the closer I was moving to him.

"You sure?" Outwardly I was grinning but on the inside, I was just rolling with laughter. It took all of my willpower to keep it inside. "Don't deny it. It's only natural you know; a young boy and a pretty, very skilled lady. I could teach you a few _things_ ~"

He just shook his head and started to back out. The light flush that appeared on his cheeks was getting stronger with every second. Suddenly he toppled to the ground as he stumbled over his own discarded lawnmower.

I snorted with laughter. _Oh my..._ But as I watched him struggle to get up, my mind decided to reprimand me. _Calm down, Grell. Have some decorum, this kid is scared to death!_

After taking a deep breath to compose myself, I said, "It's all right. I know my charms are hard to resist. But I usually don't leap at any pretty guy I see~"

Ronald just eyed me suspiciously as if I told him the most obvious lie ever. He picked up his scythe to hide behind it.

I sighed, seeing he needed my assertion. "Look, I'm not interested in children. So don't get your hopes up." Then I inspected my gloves in a quick motion as if they needed an immediate attention.

The boy merely nodded his head. "Riiight. Good to know."

_Okay, had my fun, time to get back to work._ "Let's go to see Will. He's going to grumble all day if we won't show up."

We went inside the Dispatch building. After crossing the main hall and turning in the second corridor to the left, we entered the elevator.

Its beautiful interior was made from dark walnut and had a huge mirror hanging on the back wall. Out of habit I studied my reflection, fingers glided through the a little bit of a ruffled hair on the top of my head, but everything seemed all right. However, just in case, I took out from my coat's pocket a red lipstick. And as I was concentrating on my lips, my sight ventured to the left where Ronald stood. With an unreadable expression and slightly furrowed brows, he observed me intensively. Playfully I turned around to show him my best-mustered grin and snapped my teeth as if insinuating to bite him. He flinched, looking surprised, but bravely smiled back. Suddenly the elevator stopped and its door opened, signalling we were on the desired floor.

* * *

"Good. You are finally here," William said, going through the papers on the desk. "You must go again to the Gaunt Manor, Sutcliff. There is planned another death today at night. You can decide if you want to bring Mr. Knox with you."

"Why I shouldn't go?" the boy asked immediately, looking concerned.

"Because there is a serious assumption of high demon activity. It might be dangerous for a young Reaper, you will be more of a trouble than help."

"I don't see why he shouldn't go with me. He has to learn that not every collection will be easy," I countered.

"I hope you know what you are doing. Mr. Humphries won't be helping you, he's bedridden with sickness. You need to get to the bottom of this."

"So you are saying that things are going to be interesting~?"

"I'm saying that if someone decided to steal another soul there, they started to be careless. I don't believe that the person in question doesn't realize, that missing souls won't bring attention from our department. You should be careful, Sutcliff."

"Ah, Will. Are you worried about my safety~?" I cooed and put a hand to my cheek in a surprised manner.

"I want this case solved. Honestly though, we cannot afford to lose an officer, we are already understaffed. Mr. Knox should help us with the collections for a longer while."

"Yes, yes, you want to hide your worry with overtime. Wait-What? Knox?"

William raised a mocking brow. "Yes. Don't come back without him if you still want to work here."

I chuckled at his response. "Darling, you're cold as always but that only ignites my passion even more. Besides, your eyes cannot deceive me, I know you're worried about me too. If anything, who would you send after those pesky demons, hm?"

William reached to the bridge of his glasses. "I would find someone."

"Sure. But not as good as me."

Despite the silence on Will's part we both knew I was telling the truth.

"If it's a demon you can count on me that I will paint him in the most beautiful color in the world - red!"

After the conversation we left, to explain the unexplained. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _*The "From Hell" letter is a letter that was posted in 1888, along with half a human kidney, by a person who claimed to be the serial killer known as Jack the Ripper._   
>  _*Inferno (Italian for "Hell") is the first part of Dante Alighieri's 14th-century epic poem "Divine Comedy". It tells the journey of Dante through Hell, guided by the ancient Roman poet Virgil._


End file.
